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Date Posted: 20:56:04 06/14/10 Mon
Author: 
debikm
Subject: Dang, I should proofread my posts before I hit 'send'. Molly hires a waitress, 769 words
In reply to:
debikm
's message, "What's up Docs?" on 17:16:40 06/12/10 Sat
So, this has been written for awhile, but it fit the 'things I will probably never do' category. Since I don't own a bar, I'm unlikely to hire a barmaid. Once again, Molly and her 'tude...;-)
Excerpt from Downtown Babylon, by Debi Matlack, copyright 2009-2010, all rights reserved. Posted for sharing and critique purposes only, does not consitute publication.
--------
Even though they were busy, it occurred to Molly that the lightening mood after Janice’s departure made it all worthwhile. The rate of peanut and pretzel consumption slowed too, making Molly realize that Janice had been practicing pilferage for months.
She'd posted an ad for a new barmaid but hadn’t had any takers that could do the job. So Molly continued to wait tables and left all of the bartending and mixing of drinks to Jimmy.
Afternoon sunlight lanced into the dim bar interior as the door was pushed open. Interrupting the light was a vague human silhouette that Molly didn’t recognize. The figure paused inside the door, no doubt trying to adjust their eyes to the lack of bright lighting inside.
“You wanna close the door before you blind us?” Jimmy grumped, his hand in front of his eyes.
“Excuse the hell out of me.”
The door swung closed and Molly blinked. The snarky newcomer was revealed to be a willowy blonde, balanced at the top of a set of stiletto heels and wearing a pair of jeans that looked like they’d been airbrushed on her. She had the body to pull off the look, Molly had to admit. A striped crop top hugged over her ample breasts, ending well short of the low waistline of her jeans and a golden ring winked at her navel. Her long blonde hair hung to her waist and fell in tousled fuck-me curls. She reminded Molly of the halter competition horses she used to see at shows. Bred and groomed for looks alone, they had only their looks going for them. Most of them hadn’t the faintest idea what a bridle or saddle was and had the personalities to match such an elite upbringing. For that matter, next to the young woman’s polished appearance,
Molly felt a little like one of the cow horses she’d ridden; sturdy, strong, but not necessarily much in the beauty department. The girl stood there, with an air of expectation.
“Can I help you?” Molly asked.
“I understand you’re hiring.”
Jimmy jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Titty bars are a couple of miles down the road.” Molly had to suppress a giggle and she thumped the back of her hand across his arm.
“Be nice.” She turned back to the girl to see her reaction. As she expected, the prospective employee was turning red and indignant.
“What makes you think I should be working at one of them?”
Molly raised her brows. “He’s got a point. Did you look in a mirror before you left home?”
“Of course I did! I knew I was coming to interview to work at a bar.”
“As a barmaid, a waitress. We don’t wear mini skirts here, we don’t dance on the tables or the bar, we serve drinks, a few sandwiches and chips, we watch TV and shoot the shit.”
“What are you trying to say?” Oh, little Miss Indignant was building up to a full head of steam.
“What I’m saying is, unless you’re planning to turn tricks, you shouldn’t dress like you are. Would you show up to an interview for an office job looking like that?”
“Of course not.” The tone was cooling now and the blonde was looking a little sheepish.
“Then you shouldn’t show up to any job interview looking like a street corner hooker. Even for a job in a bar.”
“Oh… I’m sorry.” She turned to go.
“Hang on, you want the interview or not?” Molly’s words stopped her as she was reaching for the door handle. She turned around, a glimmer of hope in her dark brown eyes.
“Yeah?”
“How do you mix a Long Island Iced Tea?”
Without hesitation, the girl replied, “A quarter ounce each of gin, vodka, spiced rum, tequila and triple sec, an ounce of sweet and sour mix, six ounces of cola, all over ice. With lemon.”
“How about a boilermaker?”
“Shot glass of whiskey, mug of beer. Light the whiskey, drop it in the beer.”
“And a Blow Job?”
A little smile came over her face. “Take a shot glass, fill it three quarters full of amaretto, top it off with Irish cream. The drinker has to put their hands behind their back and pick it up with their mouth to toss it back. Preferably from a man’s lap.”
Molly grinned. “What’s your name?”
The blonde gave her a cautious smile. “Lisa.”
“Lisa, come back at seven dressed like a normal human being and we’ll see how you do.”
The smile blossomed into a full blown grin. “Yes ma’am!” She bolted through the door.
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Just for fun, here's a link to the song that lent the title of Molly's story. -- debikm, 21:22:53 06/14/10 Mon
I don't work for Paul Thorn, but I love his music.He is an amazing singer-songwriter and a fascinating man to boot. Give him a listen.
http://preview.tinyurl.com/25paa2e
Last edited by author: Mon June 14, 2010 21:52:44
Edited 3 times.
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OMG, I've heard that song before! I had no idea what it was called or who sang it, but I thought (and still think) it's brilliant! -- Page, 18:01:47 06/22/10 Tue
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Paul Thorn is awesome. And has a new CD out. "Pimps and Preachers". How perfect is that title?! -- Debi, 06:34:03 06/23/10 Wed
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Ah, Lisa, Lisa, Lisa. >>>> -- Page, 18:08:47 06/22/10 Tue
At least Molly was cool enough to see past the outfit bought at Whores R Us to give the girl a chance. *G*
Also, I now know why I've never liked Long Island Iced Tea. I have, however, been know to put away a pitcher of Long Island Lemonade by myself. (I understand they rolled me home, but like Sgt. Schultz, I know nothing.)
And, finally, this story SO rocks. I totally mean that.
Hugs,
Page
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Dress like a slut, get mistaken for one... ;-) -- Debi, 14:49:31 06/23/10 Wed
>At least Molly was cool enough to see past the outfit
>bought at Whores R Us to give the girl a chance. *G*
>
That and she was tired of waiting tables...,?I>
>Also, I now know why I've never liked Long Island Iced
>Tea. I have, however, been know to put away a pitcher
>of Long Island Lemonade by myself. (I understand they
>rolled me home, but like Sgt. Schultz, I know nothing.)
>
>And, finally, this story SO rocks. I totally mean
>that.
>
>Hugs,
>Page
Thanks, Page. I love the characters. They might have more to say soon. I can feel it in the back of my brain...
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