Why do I put up with these kids?

So we've had to fire some people here lately, this one chick Paula was stealing from the drawer and thought she'd get away with it. What a bitch. She was cute, a little too emo-looking for me, but some people go for that, so whatever. I was pretty sneaky when I caught her, I came in to the shop one day in disguise, fake mustache and everything, and sat "reading the paper" off in one of the dark corners and had a perfect line of sight for watching her the entire time. Money had been missing for a while, and just because I can be a little out of it from time to time, she thought I wouldn't notice. But there's a reason that Wendell leaves me in charge of the money. I'm smart like that. Another dude that worked here left, but was on his way to getting fired after not showing up much. He quit before I could get the chance to fire him. I can't even remember his name right now and I'm not sure if I ever knew it. Now we have to hire two new people, or give some of the other workers more hours. Whatever. I don't know why I can't have more say in who works here, but no. It's always "Wyatt, so-and-so needs to be told to take shorter breaks," or "Emo-girl needs to be fired, can you handle that Wyatt?" But when I tell Wendell that the girl with the nice legs and pretty eyes should be hired I can never be heard.

Then there's Heather, who has been freaking out lately, worried that some guy thinks that she's some sort of floozy because she slept next to him for one night, and that's all. I guess it's not just some guy, it's Chad, the regular of regulars. And nothing happened, from what she's saying. Chad's not been in here as often but it's the summer and no one comes in here as often in the summer. She kept saying that she hopes he doesn't have the wrong ideas about her, that she's a good girl and was just drunk and needed a place to stay and thought it would be nice to have someone to lay next to overnight. If that's the worst of her worries, then she should be alright. I swear these kids have no idea.

They have no idea about why I go out all the time. They think I'm just some creepy guy looking for some young tail. That's only half true. Really, I'm going out there to get ideas and to see what that crowd is into these days. Granted my college days are behind me, way way behind me. I guess I shouldn't really say college days, more like my college-aged days. I never really went to college. I moved here to go but classes just weren't my thing and cramped my style. I once had style. But I can still hang with the crowd and see what's what. I get ideas for new things to use at the shop. I hear about some local musician and try to get him to play an in-store. I see the styles and try to influence the hiring of people who fit. All to try to bring in the business. The kids appreciate it but Wendell thinks I'm just some horny creepy drunk dude trying to stay in the college age. He really knows that I'm not a drunk at least not anymore. I did meetings and stuff man. So what if I check girls out while I'm at the bars. Have you seen some of the things they wear these days??? How could I not check them out? When their boobs are out there a guy has to look. It's written in our genes, even Wendell will look at a nice pair and make a comment.

Anyways I hope Heather snaps out of this soon. She's one of our better (and cuter) workers so we don't need her freaking out and letting things slack. I guess if it had to happen summer is the best time. It's too bad that I know how good of a girl she really is otherwise I might try to move in. If I were 10 years younger of course. Her voice is amazing. A couple of weeks ago she had a performance or a recital or whatever they call it that I went to. Mainly to impress this girl I was dating, making her think that I was cultured and shit. But part of me wanted to see Heather outside of her Brews Brothers duds and I'm glad I did. She had this dress on that could have killed a man and was glowing like an angel or something. That dress definitely worked for her. Taking the date to the concert worked for me. I should probably thank Heather for inviting me.

work work work

I have been working constantly this week! We lost two workers in the past couple of weeks, and I've been trying to get as many hours as I can, rent doesn't pay itself, and neither will a new outfit. Apparently the girl we lost (it wasn't so much "lost" as she was "fired") needed some new outfits, too, because she was stealing from the drawer, and from other people's tips! How weak is that??? The guy we lost (yes, there are a few guys that work here, and now even fewer) had recently graduated, and decided he needed to move on rather quickly. He was planning on staying until the end of summer, but all of a sudden two days ago he quit and left town. No two weeks or anything. Seems like a weird situation. Oh well, it means more money for Heather!

So there was this party recently that a few friends of mine and I went to, out at a cabin by the lake. Chad was there. As was a lot of alcohol. It was fun! Chad and I talked for a long, long, long time, about nothing at all, really. But it wasn't in a way that was weird, it was just getting to know each other, while drinking and sitting on a dock overlooking the lake. The setting was beautiful, I might add. Maybe next year I'll have to talk Dana and a few other girls into trying to get together and rent a place out this way. It'll take a lot more hours at Brews Brothers, but I think it'd be worth it. I could sit out on a bench facing the lake every night for hours, just on my own.

Anyways, I ended up staying at the cabin after Dana passed out. I may be a lightweight, but I could drink her under the table without even trying. But I must have had a little more than I thought, I kind of went to sleep in Chad's bed, with him in it. Don't worry, nothing happened at all. It was nice, though. I just hope Chad doesn't get the wrong ideas

People watching

Last night Brett and I went to Brew (the bar) because we were feeling all sociable and, well, because it was raining and the rain dampened (ha, ha) any notion I had of spending time outside. So we went to the bar instead.

I love to people watch. I think it is a great pastime and it’s interesting to watch how people interact with one another. Brett and I positioned ourselves at the end of the bar where we could see the TV (baseball!) and the door (people coming in!) and still manage to carry on a conversation and not look totally anti-social. Nobody wants to be “those guys.”

There are a few categories of people that we watch for while out at the bar.
1. People we know.
1a. People we know and want to see.
1b. People we know and don’t want to see (which is usually when we turn around on our barstools, look straight ahead, or pretend to be engaged in a really important conversation).

2. Bar sluts. We rank them. There are:
2a. Bar Sluts in Training (B-Sits) who you can tell are going to be full-on bar sluts someday and are just learning from their older, wiser, super bar slut friends; they are heavily made up and wearing skimpy clothing but are far less aggressive than your typical bar slut. Summer is usually the time when the B-Sits come into their own; they’ve had a full year of apprenticeship under their sorority sisters and are stepping up to the plate now that their older friends have graduated and left town. Come fall, when all the students are back in town, they will be seasoned pros.
2b. Super Bar Sluts. Once B-Sits, they have now graduated to SBS status. Their skirts are shorter, their shirts are more low-cut, and they are on the prowl. B-Sits study their every move. If you are of the male species and do not have a girl already hanging on you, chances are an SBS will be all over you like a rat in a cheetoh in no time flat.
3b. Almost Passed Out Bar Sluts. Bar Sluts in APO status are possibly celebrating something (birthdays, graduations, negative STD checks) and have definitely been doing shots. Bar Sluts are obviously not the only people who can fall into APO status, but they are the most entertaining to watch, because they know they’re going to puke and/or pass out soon and are trying to act sober enough to pick up a guy to take them home because their less intoxicated SBS friends already left with guys, or went to another bar to find fresh meat.

3. He-Man Woman Haters. These are the guys that walk in oozing testosterone, trying to be intimidating (often successfully) and who are just looking to get into fights.

4. Old People. I find it interesting when people my parents’ age show up at the “cool” bars rather than the American Legion down the street. There are times when it’s okay for parents to be at the bar – graduation, for instance, or actually any time an older person is accompanied by a college-aged student. The rest of the time it’s just weird.


As we were sitting at the bar, watching baseball and ranking bar sluts, Heather walked in, followed by Dana, followed by some guy I didn’t know. She didn’t see me right away, so I turned rather quickly back to the bar.

“Dude,” Brett said. “There’s your friend…what’s her name? Dana’s friend? They’re coming over here.”

I pretended to needed to order something, even though I had about half a beer left. “Hey, stranger,” Heather said. I turned around.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey, Brett,” Dana said.

“Hey, Dana,” Brett said.

This exchange of hellos was followed by an awkward silence and then, “Hi! I’m Jake.”

“Hey, I’m Brett,” Brett said, reaching over to shake hands with Jake.

“I’m Chad,” I said, also shaking hands, and accidentally brushing Heather’s arm with my hand. Whoa.

“So I’ve heard,” he said. What the hell?

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Jake announced.

“Where’s Ambrosia?” Dana asked.

“So, what happened to you Sunday morning?” I asked Heather.

“Dana woke up and we got a ride back into town with some guy,” she replied.

“You could have woken me up.”

“I didn’t want to do that,” she said. “You were sleeping and all cute and stuff, so I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You should have woken me! I could have made you pancakes or something.”

“I needed a ride back into town.”

“I could have given you a ride back into town,” I insisted.

“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have left like that.”

“You’re right. The next time you spend the night you should at least say goodbye in the morning.”

She laughed. “I had a really great time the other night.”

“I did, too,” I told her. It was true.

Dana was kind of pulling on her arm and Heather said, "I'm really sorry, but we have to get going. We basically came in so that Jake could pee."

"Nice," I said. "I see how you are...pee and run."

She and Dana both laughed. "I'm working tomorrow from two until ten."

"Maybe I'll see you," I said.

"Maybe you will," she said, and walked away.

The summer begins

Last Thursday, or maybe it was Wednesday – all the days last week have kind of become a blur – I was at Brews Brothers in the morning, before work, and Heather wasn’t there and I was just eating a cookie and drinking some iced tea and reading (I’m now reading Tourist Season by Carl Hiaasen, which was recommended to me by a friend) and suddenly I felt someone come up behind me and start scratching my back, and I turned to see who it was and it was Heather.

I said something lame about not having seen her for awhile, and she said that she was just getting back into the swing of things after being ill for several days. And I said something lame about her calling me the next time she was sick so I could bring her chicken soup, and she laughed.

Then I said, “What are you doing this weekend?” and she said she didn’t have any real plans, maybe grilling with her friend Charlie, and I said, “You should definitely come to my party,” and then I handed her an invitation and she said, “I will definitely be there.”

So, yeah, I was even more excited for Saturday than I had been previously, and I had been pretty damn excited about it.

Saturday Devon and I went and picked up the kegs – six of them – in the morning while Derek and his flavor of the week – one of Rich Girl’s rich little bimbo friends – strung up white Christmas lights. The boat’s in now, so after we got the kegs situated we did a little bit of wakeboarding. It was my first time out this year so I got tired pretty quickly, but it was a good time and I did a couple of 360s. No flips yet – I decided not to kill myself the first time out.

People started showing up about 5 and we threw a bunch of hot dogs and brats on the grill, tapped the first keg, and the festivities began. The great thing about the lake being so close to Sheffield is that cabs will come out, so most people had people drop them off with the intent of cabbing it back to town, or brought sleeping bags with the intent of passing out in our living room or yard. As long as nobody drinks and drives, I’m happy.

By the time Heather showed up I had done a couple of keg stands and was feeling pretty good. She came with Dana, and Dana immediately ran into a bunch of people that she knew and Heather came over and interrupted the game of beer pong that I was miserably losing. I hope I didn’t seem too excited to see her, I don’t want to come off as overeager, but I was. And she looked awesome in this long flowy tan skirt and blue tank top. It’s the first time I’d seen her in casual clothes – aside from the dress (that dress…) that she wore to her recital, I’d only ever seen her in Brews Brothers polo shirt and apron.

So after she showed up I made a point to finish losing beer pong, and got Heather a beer and we went and sat on the dock and talked. And talked. And talked. Aside from getting up to refill beers, we talked nonstop the entire night. I now know that Heather has two brothers (older) and one sister (younger) and that she loves yoga and used to collect My Little Ponies when she was younger. I know that her parents are divorced and that she grew up in Denver, where she lived with her dad, and that her mom has lived all over the place but now lives in South Carolina somewhere. I know that she decided to go to Sheffield U because her grandmother lives nearby and Heather loved the campus growing up, and she also wanted to be close because her grandmother had never really gotten to hear her sing before, and her grandma hasn’t missed a single performance in Heather’s college career. And I know that someday she wants to teach music, but she’s not ready yet, and that she’s a cat person and a dog person. I know those things, and a lot of other things, because we talked forever. But it flew by and it felt like we had only been talking for five minutes, not five hours, and before we knew it things were starting to get quiet and Heather said, “Well, I’d better get going.”

“You can’t drive home,” I said.

“Dana and I were going to take a cab home,” she replied.

We started walking through the yard, picking up cups and paper plates as we went, and there were lights on in the basement, which was promising. There were a few people sleeping on the floor, most of whom I didn’t recognize, and Brett and some other guy were playing PS2 while Ambrosia slept on Brett’s lap. “Hey, have you seen Dana?” I asked.

He nodded toward the back corner, where Dana was sprawled across an air mattress. Heather sighed. “You’re more than welcome to stay here,” I told her. “There’s no sense in you calling a cab and going back into town by yourself.”

She nodded. “Do you have a t-shirt and shorts or something that I could wear?”

So we went upstairs to my room (more people passed out there, and a couple on the deck outside) and I found her a clean pair of mesh shorts and a Sheffield U t-shirt, and she went into the bathroom and changed and said, “Thanks, that’s much better.”

Then she sat down on my bed and smiled and said, “You don’t mind if I sleep up here, do you? Dana snores something fierce.”

“Of course you can,” I told her, silently thanking myself for washing my sheets earlier in the week and for not being a complete slob like Devon. So she laid down and I laid down next to her, and she thanked me and I said, “You’re welcome.” Then I started to drift off, but not before she kind of scooted over and nestled her head into my shoulder, so I put my arm around her and we fell asleep.

In the morning, she was gone.

Whirlwind week

Last week was crazy – work, parties, live music, and unexplainable injuries. Let’s just say that I am our household’s current Beer Pong champion, that the lake is not very warm yet, and that my left knee is so swollen that I can barely walk.

I did manage to sneak into Brews Brothers a few times last week but there was no sign of Heather anywhere. Damn. I stopped in yesterday before work and Dana was there, and I wanted to ask her where Heather was because I think they’re kind of friends, but I decided not to. I don’t want to be too obvious about it. I think I would know if she had quit – Wyatt and Wendell usually keep me pretty up-to-date on staff changes – so maybe she just decided to take a vacation after school got out or something.

I’m really hoping to see her to invite her to the huge party we’re having this weekend to kick off the summer. Kegs have been ordered, so the party’s officially official now, and we actually made up invitations, which is pretty impressive for three college-aged guys throwing a kegger. They look pretty good too, if I do say so myself – I made them one day last week when I was bored at work. I think the Queer Eye For the Straight Guy guys would be impressed with my design. I did give one to Dana, and I guess I could have given her an extra one and told her to give it to Heather if she saw her, but I really want to invite her myself so that she thinks that I really want her there (not just another female body), which I do. I guess I’ll just have to be patient and keep going to Brews Brothers at every opportunity I get. I’m bound to run into her eventually, right?

Back from the bed

So what do I do for excitement the first week of summer? How about get deathly ill! I got some sort of bug this week, I feel like it was food poisoning from another cookout we had. Usually I like my burgers medium rare, but I think Charlie gave me mine straight from the cow. And this cow got his revenge on me. For the past few days I've barely been able to make it out of my bed, let alone make it to work. It was a nice vacation, except for the whole vomiting part. My next paycheck is going to be tiny, unless I pick up a ton of hours. Just what I wanted to do over the summer. Spend more time indoors, working with a milk steamer when the A/C goes out.

Now that I'm able to keep my food down, I feel like going to a decent place and eating a huge meal, money be damned. Unfortunately, all everyone around here just wants to go to a burger place. Not really high on my list of foods to eat right now. I guess I can dine on my own. It's never stopped me before.

Maybe I'll try to give Dana a call to see if she wants to lay out on her deck. She's got a nice place, complete with a HUGE deck in the back, perfect for working on a tan. And since I've spent the last four days inside, I'm a little restless, and very, very pale. Something needs to be done.

A recital and a hot tub

So, at the last minute I decided to go to Heather’s recital. The very last minute. By the time I got there the lights had already gone down and I had to sit in the back row. I then had to sit through three others singers, two girls and a guy. They were alright. I’m no music expert – I’m sure if I was I would have appreciated it, but they weren’t excruciatingly bad so I was alright.

Then Heather came out and she was wearing this dress. It was long and black and strapless with big roses on it and her hair was up and she was wearing pearls that I hope came from her dad or maybe a dead grandmother and not from her boyfriend, because really I don’t know that she doesn’t have a boyfriend. I have just kind of been under the assumption that she doesn’t, but why wouldn’t she? But when she came onstage she just looked radiant. Really confident. She’s so quiet and…timid most of the time, when I see her. But she just kind of floated out and took the microphone and introduced herself and her last name is Leffler. She said the name of the song she was going to sing, something in Italian that I didn’t understand, and then she was quiet for a minute. Then the piano started and she started to sing, and I think it was the prettiest sound I have ever heard.

She sang three songs in Italian and then the two girls and the guy who had sung before her came out, and two other guys, and they sang a very pretty song together, a capella, in English, that went something like “My love’s like a red, red, rose.” Then they all took a bow and everybody clapped and the lights came on and they left the stage and I followed people out into the entryway where there were cookies, and punch! Who knew that such great things existed at recitals? If I would have known about that, I would have been coming to random recitals for years just for the free refreshments. The punch wasn’t the greatest, it was red and kind of watered down, but the cookies were great. As I was chilling with my free refreshments, Heather and the other singers came out and a huge line of people formed to go talk to them. Since I wasn’t sure she wanted me there in the first place, I left.

I was going to go out downtown but Derek called, beckoning me back to the house, to go to a party in some girl’s hot tub a few doors down from us at the lake. So I went, had a few beers too many, and stumbled home about 2 a.m. It wasn’t my intention to get that drunk, but the girl whose house we were at – actually her parents’, just another spoiled little rich girl living on Daddy’s dime while her parents are on a four-month safari in Africa – was irritating the hell out of me. And Derek was forcing me to stick around so I could act as wingman, since he has his eye on one of Rich Girl’s little friends, none of whom appeared to have anything going for them intellectually. I kind of wished that I had stuck around Heather’s recital to see what was up. I hope she’s working tonight when I get off work.

Finally done!

Last night's recital went about as I was expecting. Everyone sang well, everyone applauded at the appropriate times, and the refreshments were sub par. Same as always. It's a definite relief for me to be done for the semester. Summer couldn't start soon enough. Of course, once I was done for with the semester, the weather turned cold and rainy, right in time for all the celebrations this weekend.

After the recital, I met up with a few friends downtown. We went to a few bars, got a little out of control, and just had a great time. I was hoping to run into this Chad guy, but never saw him. At least, not that I can remember. He said he may try to go to the performance, but I couldn't tell if he was there or not. Maybe he was just being polite the other day at Brews Bros. He was there with some other guy that I've seen around, and is dating a girl that I kind of know. That is to say I know who she is, but I can never remember her name. It's something unusual, like Nectar or Cinnamon or some other stripper name. Anyways, the two guys were studying hard, so I snuck them a couple peanut butter cookies. Brain food! And again we had a decent conversation, but I'm not sure if Chad is that great of a conversationalist. He was stumbling over words and spacing out or something. Finals week must have been rough for him.

Now I'm supposed to be going out tonight, but I have a huge headache, and after last night, it wouldn't hurt me to take it easy. So a lame night for me, just sitting around watching Arrested Development DVD's. So much for the first Friday of the summer.

An invitation, of sorts

Brett met me at Brews Brothers this morning so I could help him with some last minute cramming for his final in statistical physics. Don’t ask me why I’m good at that stuff, but for some reason it just clicks with me.

We were sitting there, studying, and Heather walked over and asked if she could get us anything. I was drinking orange juice because I’ve been feeling a little bit run down the past couple days and I don’t want to get a cold, not with summer starting, and even though I didn’t really feel like drinking more orange juice, I did feel like having Heather come back over to our table. “I’ll take some more juice, please,” I said, hoping that I sounded polite.

She came back over a couple minutes later with my juice and a couple peanut butter cookies. “You guys look like you need these,” she said, and she smiled as she set them on our table.

“Thanks,” I said. “Are you all ready for your recital?”

She seemed kind of surprised. I’m not sure if she was surprised that I was asking about it or surprise that I had remembered, or what, but she smiled. “I think so. I haven’t had as much time to practice as I’d like, since they’ve been so short on help here…but, yeah, I think I’m ready.”

“Do you get nervous? I think I would be terrified to stand on stage in front of a bunch of people and sing.” Terrified, like I am right now. “I mean, if I were a singer. Which I’m not. Definitely not…” Just SHUT UP, Chad! “…but if I was, I think it would be just terribly nerve-racking. Don’t you get nervous?”

“Not so much anymore. I think I used to, but I’ve been doing it for such a long time that it kind of comes naturally. Besides, most of the pieces I’m doing for my recital tonight are in Italian, so no one will know if I forget the words.”

I laughed. It wasn’t my normal laugh, either. It was my nervous, what-do-I-say-now-so-I-don’t-sound-like-a-tool laugh. “You should practice in here sometime,” I heard myself saying. Way to not sound like a tool.

Heather kind of blushed a little bit, and let me tell you that it was adorable when she blushed. “Well, I don’t know about that,” she said.

“It’d be good practice. You already have a captive audience.”

“I think I would get kind of nervous.”

“You just told me that you don’t get nervous anymore.” What are you doing, Chad? You’re being a jackass. For the love of God, shut up.

“Yeah, but that’s onstage. With the spotlights, and the piano, and the audience dark. Singing in here would be a completely different story.”

“Well, if you ever feel like giving an impromptu recital, I’d love to listen.”

Just then a big group of people came in the door, saving me from the awkwardness that was becoming my life. I have never been so happy to see customers in Brews Brothers. Heather sighed and said, “I guess I’d better go help people. But if you’re really interested in hearing me sing…my recital is tonight at 7 in the auditorium in Chapman Hall.” She didn’t give me time to say anything, or to even get a feel for whether she really wanted me to go or not, she just smiled and walked away.

I looked over at Brett, flustered. His mouth was agape.

“What was that?” he asked.

“What was what?”

“That. You couldn’t even talk, dude. What the fuck?”

“I could so.”

“It sure as hell didn’t seem like it when you were babbling. You were nervous. You were nervous around the coffee girl.”

“Her name is Heather,” I said, a little bit too defensively.

“Oh, so you’re on a first name basis. Are you going to go to her recital?” He said it in a mocking kind of voice. I did not appreciate his tone.

“I’m not sure yet,” I said as I picked up my cookie. And I really wasn’t.

Humming and whistling

I'm getting better at talking with customers, I really am! Some people are easier to talk to than others, I'm mostly sticking with the regulars right now. And I've found that when I'm not talking to people, I hum to myself when I'm wandering around. I don't think I'm consciously doing it, it's just something to fill the empty space. It all depends on the background music, which all depends on who is working. If Wendell is here, it's usually something good, like Billie Holiday or Ella. If it's Wyatt, you'll probably hear some trendy pop-punk or jam band when you visit the Brews Brothers. Kind of makes me want to puke when Wyatt is here.

One of our regulars, Chad, has been starting the conversations with me, which makes things even easier! It helps that he's pretty cute, in a sort of sleepy (not dreamy) Jake Gyllenhaal way. And I swear I've heard him whistling along with Ella one day, which I really appreciate. I don't know if he's just stressed from finals or what, but he seemed kind of flustered when I talked to him yesterday, he kept stumbling over words and looking a little lost or concerned. Then again, everyone is this time of the semester, I guess.

Speaking of which, I should get going to my lesson. . . I'm a little scatter-brained myself lately. I don't feel ready for my recital this week, but I guess I'll be alright. I just wish I had the night off tonight, but I'm one of the few employees that is done with exams. Lucky me.

A conversation

Today Heather was humming “Lua” by Bright Eyes. I wanted to kiss her.

Instead, I said, “Hey,” as she walked by, and she smiled at me and said “Hey” back.

Later, she walked by again and I said, “How are you?” and she said, “I’m good, how are you?”

I figured “on cloud nine” was not an appropriate response and I said, “Good, just studying for finals. I’m ready to be done with the semester.”

“Me, too,” she said. “How many finals do you have left?”

“Two,” I replied. “I’m all done on Thursday. What about you?”

“I don’t have any more tests, just two a rehearsal and a recital on Thursday.”

You can imagine how I was feeling when I heard she had a recital. It was part excitement that she might have a vocal recital, and part nervousness that she might be studying to be, say, a concert bassoonist or something. Not that there’s anything wrong with the bassoon; I’m sure it’s a fine instrument, just not when you’re someone as attractive as Heather. Playing the bassoon is not nearly as sexy as having a beautiful voice.

“Recital, huh? What instrument do you play?”

“I don’t play one. I mean, I do, or I did…I was in band in high school and I played the flute…but I’m focusing on vocal performance now.”

That’s when my heart stopped. I’m pretty sure it didn’t start again for several seconds and I’m sure she probably thought I was mentally challenged or having a stroke or something, since it seems like minutes passed before I was able to speak. Finally, I got it together enough to say, “Wow, vocal performance. That’s really impressive.”

“Yeah, I’ve always been interested in music. So it seemed like a good fit. I don’t know what I’m going to do with a degree in music, but I’m sure I’ll think of something. They always say ‘Do what you love and the money will follow’. There has to be some truth to that, right?”

I couldn’t believe that she was still speaking to me, and I was kind of mesmerized by the sound of her voice, especially now that I knew that she was indeed a good singer.

“I’m sure there is. I’m still trying to figure out what it is that I love to do. I’m not so sure money follows when you’re reading and drinking beer.”

I’m sure she was thinking This guy is a complete idiot, but she laughed. Then she said, “Well, it’s almost time for me to clock out, so I need to clear these tables before Wyatt has a conniption fit. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?”

And I said yes, maybe she would see me tomorrow, and then I left Brews Brothers, skipping down the sidewalk. Okay, so I wasn’t really skipping, but my heart definitely was.