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Once last glance out the car window, I burn his image to memory, blow him a kiss, then start the ignition.
With the sun shining overhead, I shift the car into drive and pulled away from all that I know and love: my home, my family, and my daddy.
My journey of independence starts now!
1
MACKENNA
“Mackenna, will you grab that group of guys at the end of the bar?” Jeff asked.
Jeff is my bartending partner in this shithole of a bar. I’ve worked here and with Jeff for over a year, just before I graduated college. Jeff is still in college; he graduates this spring. He was born and raised here in Massachusetts. I came here over 4 years ago from my home in Orlando. I could not wait to get here. I had dreamed of moving to Massachusetts when I was in junior high and learned there was more than one season.
Jeff is handsome, and the girls who would come out to the bar always hung out to watch him behind the bar. He was tallbutnot too tall, probably just under six feet, with toned features but not huge muscles. It was his smile that grabbed girls. He was always smiling that big smile that showed off a cute dimple in his right cheek. He always has a sparkle in his big brown eyes. Like he was happy to be here.My eyes never sparkled like that.
Jeff put his hand through his dark brown hair that always fell over his eyes and yelled again . . . “Hey Kenna grab those guys at the end of the bar for me?”
“No problem, let me just finish getting these guys their beers, and I will head down,” I yelled back to him.
As I put a cup under the draft, I glanced down at the end of the bar to a group of four guys and yelled, “I’ll be right down.” I skimmed over their features quickly and noticed the one wearing a white polo giving me a wink. As I turned away and grabbed a second glass, I rolled my eyes.Who wears a polo to a dive bar, I thought? This place was a shithole. Most guys wore a t-shirt and jeans here.
I handed the two guys their draft beers and grabbed the money they handed over. I smiled and said a quick “thank you.”
“You can keep the rest” one of them said. I smiled and in a loud voice spoke over the music and crowd, “thanks for the tip, guys.”
I threw the money into my tip jar that was located to the left of the register. Jeff’s tip jar was located on the right. I wiped my hands on the wet towel that hung by the register. Pouring drinks your hands would constantly get sticky and touching people’s money was justgross!
This bar was always busy. It was located between two colleges and because we served some crappy beer on draft it was cheap, and the college kids could afford it. It was truly a shithole. This place had two small windows, the walls were concrete with a huge Irish flag painted on one of them, on another wall was a shamrock painted with the name of the bar O’Donnell’s. The bar was stained a dark mahogany with bar stools lined all the way down.
The Shelving on the wall behind the bar held the hard liquor along with the register and our tip jars. There was a television up on the wall in two of the corners. The volume was muted so no one really paid attention to it unless there was a Red Sox game, Bruin’s game or a Patriots game. The DJ was in the far corner away from the bar. There was no need for a dance floor people just danced in the middle of the room. The lighting was dark which made just about everyone look good if you had a few drinks in you.
As I walked to the end of the bar to greet the four guys that were waiting, my eyes scanned their appearance. I assumed they were frat boys from one of the colleges. They were standing there all wearing polo shirts. They looked like they came from one of the Ivy league colleges on the other side of the city.
Each one of them had that look of ‘my shit doesn’t stink, and I live off of mommy and daddy’s money.’
I made my way down the bar with a fake smile on my face wondering how much longer until I could yell, “Last call.”
I stared directly at theshitheadin the middle of the group. The one who gave me the wink. With the sweetest voice I could muster up, I said, “Hi, boys. What can I get you?” Still looking at the middle one, I gave him a cute little wink.
I knew what he would do before he even did it, and as I expected, he slowly moved his eyes down my small five-foot-four-inch frame, stopping first at my average size chest and slowly down my slender stomach that was currently exposed and showing my naval.
Then his gaze moved on to my hips, which were a little wider. Once his eyes reached my hips, he slowly brought his eyes back up, meeting my green eyes. I knew I was not horrible looking, but I was no drop-dead gorgeous girl either. I was an average-looking girl with wavy red hair.
Growing up, I hated the waves in my hair. I always tried to straighten it, but I was no good with a hair straightener. I would always burn my fingers or my scalp, so I said, “fuck it” and threw it in the trash. I had nice skin with a good complexion. I moisturized every morning and night. I was not pale but nor was I tan. I had deep green eyes that I got from my mother. Actually, I looked just like her. I was her mini-me. I wore a ‘C’ bra cup which was pretty good for being so short. I had a toned stomach and toned legs from working out. I wore very little makeup, only mascara and lip gloss. I was girly but not too girly.
Once the asshole was satisfied with ogling me, he stated, “Four Jager bombs.”Yup, he’s a total douche. “And four Guinness.”
“You got it! Hang tight, handsome.” I knew how to play the game to get the tips!
I grabbed four shot glasses, the Jägermeister, and Red Bull to make the Jager bombs. As I poured out the shots, I took a glimpse down the bar at Jeff, who was at the other end waiting on some cute girls.
He glanced over and gave me that stupid grin he liked to give.
That was his way of saying,ha-ha, better you then me waiting on those assholes.
God, he was a pain in my ass sometimes. Whom was I kidding, Jeff was a pain in my ass most nights?
I nodded at him, which was my way of saying,Fuck you, buddy!
