Page 84 of The Bartender Special

Benny ran a hand down his face and then through his hair.

“Okay, you go first.”

Jack, and his tight shorts, tried for focus now.

“Three things I'm good at…” he started. “Hmm. Well, I always thought it looked stupid when bartenders slung shakers around when making drinks. So, I learned how to do it? I can sling ‘em around. But nothing else. Glasses? I break them. Knives? Nearly lost a finger when I tried. It's just the metal shakers. Something Dixon has always dogged me about but, I gotta point it out here, he can’t juggle anything.”

“Let me also point it out here, I can't juggle anything,” Benny was quick to interject. “In fact, I'm not even that great at throwing and catching anything. My dad and Callum tried to impart to me that specific skillset, but I couldn’t do either to save my life.”

“Is there anything you could do to save someone’s life?”

Benny didn’t even flinch.

“You know the big scene in the movie Flashdance? Where she’s in front of the judges and blows them away with her dance? I can do that. The dance, I mean. Every step, every twist, every move. No mistakes. Just a boy with a dream. But not the outfit. I’m not sure I’d look good in a leotard and tights.”

Jack had to take a beat.

Benny’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t think of me in a leotard and tights, Jack,” he warned. “I mean it.”

Jack’s hands shot up out of the water in defense.

“I’m not thinking about your tights,” he lied. “But I gotta point out that you—Benny De Carlo, the nervous nelly himself—just said you’d be okay to do a whole-ass dance routine on stage. In front of the town.”

Benny’s eyes widened.

“I don't think I'll ever be emotionally, mentally, or physically able to do that in public. Definitely not on a stage. We’re just sharing our weird skills right now.”

“So you wouldn’t want to do any kind of trend dance then, I’m assuming.”

Benny was violent with his head shake.

“That’s a big no-go for me, Mr. Knox.”

Jack shrugged, water rolling off of his hair.

“Can’t say I’m any different, though. Being in the pageant is one thing, twerking my ass up on stage is another.”

He lowered himself in the water to lessen their height difference. He was able to see Benny’s smile head-on that way. It was nice.

“The only things I would consider myself really good at are bar-related,” he finally decided. “Slinging mixers, making drinks⁠—”

“—and keeping the secrets of people who have had too many of those drinks,” Benny interrupted.

Jack snorted.

“Yeah, but none of those is a skill I think I can wow at a pageant with. What're your other two things?”

“I'm really good at old school arcade games like Donkey Kong? You know the one where they throw the barrels and you have to dodge and climb ladders… Oh! I can stand on one foot for a really long time. Like balance on it. Ethan timed me once and I made it to six minutes without falling. Which, I’ll be honest, I’m not sure whether that is impressive or not.” Benny burst into laughter, a ripple of water moving around him. “We are so screwed, aren't we?”

Jack wished he could say otherwise.

“Yeah, I’m not too sure how slinging drinks and standing on one leg is going to get us much in ways of a prize or good publicity for the bar.”

They swam around for a few more minutes, throwing out suggestions and recaps from movies they'd seen with real-life pageants and talent shows in them. Nothing really landed. Benny was ready to give up, wondering aloud if it would be easier if the pageant didn't call for couples to do a talent together, when Jack asked what he thought was an innocent and reasonable question.

“Ms. Peggy said your parents were in the pageant back in the day, right? What was their talent?”