Feeling This Read Free Page A

half bad, with shoulder length blonde
hair and big brown puppy dog eyes. He is rather tall and lanky, more on the
skinny side, not really my type. All that aside, I am just not attracted to the
guy. He thinks if he keeps at it, I’ll give in or something.  
    A red light forces me to stop and the
engine starts sputtering. Oh no, please no , I need to work tonight. We
need the money. The light changes and my foot quickly finds the gas. The car
lurches forward almost seeming to consider whether it wants to go or not but it
hangs in there. Finally, I swing into the half-full parking lot. In an hour or
two it will be totally packed, this is the big hot spot on Friday, Saturday,
and Sunday nights. Tonight being Sunday, it will still be packed. Nobody in
this godforsaken town has anything else to do.
    The double, wooden doors greet me in the
routine I repeat over and over six nights a week. Someday, I’ll have a degree
and be able to do something else. But until then this is my home away from
home.
    My tired hands push the door inward and my
eyes adjust instantly to the dull lighting typical of any bar. My theory, the
ugly theory, if the lighting is low and the beer is flowing, they really don’t
see who they are going home with. If the lights were up to full brightness,
they would realize how ugly everything really gets as they drink more. Yes, I
must persist in making up stupid theories to keep myself going.
    Becca runs up to me as soon as I settle
behind the bar, “Kimber, hey girl, guess what happened last night?”
    Oh boy, I can only imagine, more like who happened last night. My ugly theory rings most true with Becca, I’ve seen it in
action. She is absolutely adorable with her five foot frame of about one
hundred pounds, small green eyes and long brown hair. But that’s the problem,
she sleeps with anyone that pays her a compliment.
    “No Becca, no guessing, how about you just
tell.”
    She laughs and comments snidely, “Guess you
didn’t sleep that well last night. Well I did, and not by myself.” See, I
called it, never by herself. I try to be the supportive friend and intervene in
her trysts but she doesn’t listen. I’m not sure I would listen to me either.
    She stands there waiting for me to ask. I
sigh, “Okay, Becca, who is the lucky guy?”
    She gushes, “It was Tyler and I think I’m
in love.”
    I frown at her and look intently, “Really
because that’s what you said last week about, oh what was his name, oh yeah I
don’t remember because you say that every week, Becca, really?”
    She shakes her head, “I don’t care what you
say Kimber, this is the one. Maybe you just need to get laid and your panties
wouldn’t be in such a tight wad.”
    Okay so I give up, Project Becca
Intervention, total failure. I can’t get my life together, why in the
world should I try to help her?
    “Sorry Becca, really I do hope this is the
one. But I’ll say what I say every time, be careful girl. There are some creeps
out there and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
    She smiles, suddenly back to her cheerful
self, “Do you want to hear about him?”
    This is what is so funny about this girl. I
always warn her about being cautious, but she never seems to get hurt. I wonder
how she does it. If I knew the secret I wouldn’t still be reeling over the one
that got away as I like to genuinely call him.
    “Spill it girl.” I check my watch and add,
“Make it fast, I have to get ready for the rush in an hour.”
    ***
    An hour later just as I called it, we are
slammed. I can’t even focus on the mess that is my life for the sheer fact that
I am so busy. Unfortunately, I am stuck closing with Derek once again and every
time we pass each other behind the bar, he grabs my ass or whispers something
inappropriate in my ear. Isn’t that workplace sexual harassment or something? I
just ignore him. Past experience with him proves that the more attention I give
to my annoyance at him, the more encouraged he seems to