Just got home from the Jive, and thought I’d write a little bit in my diary while I soak my feet. Tonight was a long one, but it would’ve been worse if not for Q. But I’ll get to that in a minute.
I know I’m lucky to even have a job, and especially so to have a boss like Ceejay who is so nice. Sometimes I think she’s a little over-protective, but I guess it beats the alternative! Tonight’s singer was very good, and the crowd seemed to be really enjoying themselves. So it should have been a pretty nice night, but I guess there will always just be those people who seem to drain the life right out of you. Ceejay does a pretty good job of keeping those types out, but sometimes they get in anyway. You know the ones. They leer at you, or make comments, sometimes they pinch you. This one was not exactly like that, but he still just seemed so …creepy.
I didn’t even see him come in, but late in my shift I turned around and there he was at the closest table to the stage, staring around at everything like he was trying to memorize the place. Ceejay doesn’t like any customer to be kept waiting, so of course I headed right to him to get his order. He looked up at me like I reeked - which is funny, because he wasn’t all lilacs and roses, himself… kinda smelled like a combination of moss, asphalt, and that smell you get when you first light a match. I had to struggle to keep a pleasant smile on my face.
He glanced over the drinks menu and in an accent I’ve never heard before, ordered the cheapest wine we have. I don’t get around much, it’s true, but I think I can say with some certainty that this fella was from Out Of Town. When I got back with his drink, he didn’t even look up. He just kept staring at the singer like she was the worst thing he’d ever heard. (Which is weird, because everyone else in the place thought she was the cat’s pajamas!)
Well, I was determined not to let this one bad apple spoil my whole night, so I went back to my usual spot along the back wall to enjoy the music for a while. Just as I was starting to get into it, I looked over at Stinkface, and he was gone! The rat must’ve snuck out to duck leaving a tip. I don’t even know how he got past me – maybe up the stairs to the balcony and around?
But get this: I was just heading over to clean up the table when who should show up, but Q himself! I think I heard violins. Unfortunately, he wasn’t there by himself. He arrived with some glamorous lady and her goon, and they all sat down together at Mr. Creepy’s recently vacated table. But when Q found out about the absent tip, he made it good himself! He’s a nice guy, that Quinn. Even if he doesn’t think he is.
I wonder if I’ll ever be glamorous?