Page 6 of Vesper Martinis

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Page 6 of Vesper Martinis

“I got into UBC!” he says excitedly.

Derek is in his late thirties and never went to college. A few months ago, he said he wanted to finish his education but thought he couldn’t. He didn’t have the resources or the time, but I guess that’s changed.

“That’s great,” I say, giving him a slap on the shoulder. “Tell me all about it,” I ask, both because I care and because it means I don’t have to talk.

He tells me all about his courses and that his wife got a high-paying job which will allow him to go to school and get a higher paying job afterward. I’m happy for him. Whenever I’ve seen him, he’s always had his nose in a book. He’s smart, but you can only get so far without a degree. I guess they won’t just take your word for it.

In college, I took biology. I didn’t know what I wanted, but my parents wanted me to attend school. I’m glad I did. Minus my love life, it went well for me. Got an excellent education that I didn’t end up using, but I know that I have a backup plan in case this all goes to pot.

I check my watch and see that it's time to get back out there. Tossing my wrapper into the garbage, I finish my water and head out.

The crowd is really intense now. From around 11 p.m. to 1 a.m., everything is busy, even on weekdays. As I pour a drink for a man, I catch someone out of the corner of my eye at the bar. I see that it's my childhood friend, Minnie.

“Fuck,” I say under my breath.

I haven’t seen Minnie since I moved from New York, where we both grew up. We’ve been attached to the hip since we were in diapers, but since I moved across the continent, we haven’t seen each other. I approach her, leaning down to give her a weird half-hug.

She gives me a huge smile. She always had the biggest smile. It helps that she has a bit of a big mouth, or maybe you’d call it wide. Either way, when she’s happy, I’m guaranteed a radiant smile.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” I shout over the loud sounds.

“I know. I can’t either! I was going to call you and tell you I was coming, but I thought I’d surprise you instead,” she shouts back.

“Listen, I’m in the middle of my shift, but I’d love to talk. How about you stick around, and when it starts to quiet, then we can talk? Or maybe when my shift is done. Whichever comes first.”

Minnie nods, then she heads to a booth with a beer, and I get back to work.

The rest of the night goes by pretty slowly. Figures since it’s always when you want the day to end that it decides to slow the fuck down. But at about 1:30, things start to cool, and only a few drunk people and some others left.

Minnie comes back and takes a seat at the almost empty bar. I grab a towel and wipe it down as I make my way to my friend.

“So…” Minnie says. “I see you got yourself a job. Good for you,” she says sarcastically.

Ever since we were kids, I’ve always been the one who wasn’t interested in getting a job. I wanted to play, go out, and have fun. I thought jobs sucked out the soul. Then adulthood hit me, and I realized without a job, I’d be genuinely fucked. Thankfully, I like this job.

“Very funny, Minnie.” I slap her with the towel and she giggles.

She’s got on her usual red and white polka dot glasses and is wearing a pair of black jeans and an off-the-shoulder purple sweater. She looks super pretty.

I’ve known Minnie for so long that she’s become like a sister to me. I’m an only child to a single mom, so it was nice to know someone I could have fun with. Plus, it gave my mom a break since it meant that whenever I wanted to play, it was with Minnie.

“So, how have you been?” I ask, leaning over the bar.

“Pretty good. Actually, I’m moving here.”

“What?” I gasp, a smile pulling at my face.

“Yeah, at the Vancouver Chronicle. I’m so fucking happy. Not so happy with the fact I have to do a ton of visa stuff to get the job but I’m happy I can start actually using my journalism degree.” She laughs.

Since graduating college over a decade ago, Minnie hasn’t been able to get a job working at a newspaper, which is what she wants. Instead, to pay off the school debt, she’s been a waitress and then worked for a blogger. She wasn’t the blogger but an assistant.

“That’s great,” I say. Then her happy smile starts to fade and is replaced by her “oh shit” smile.

“What's wrong?” I hold my hands over hers as she grasps the beer bottle she’s been nursing for an hour.

“Oh, nothing. I just… I have nowhere to stay. My apartment fell through. I only found out when I got here. I have a hotel room for tonight, but after that, I’m kind of fucked.”

“Well, why didn’t you say something? You can stay with me. I have two bedrooms at my place. You can stay as long as you like.”




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