It’s empty; Jax poured himself the last cup without starting another pot. A cardinal sin at our house. But I’ll give him a pass this time, since he seemed like he had a lot on his mind.
When I’m done making fresh coffee, I call my brother Brendan, who lives in Skokie and works at one of the firehouses there. I ask if I can come up to his place for a serious chat once my shift is over. He says yes before I can even finish my sentence.
8
Bethany
Worst.Hangover. Ever.
My head feels like an egg that’s about to hatch. Nausea keeps sending ripples through all of my organs.
Why do I do these things to myself?
And what the hell am I doing back here, the place where I poisoned my body so badly?
That’s right. I’m back at The Pulaski. It’s ten in the morning. I woke up at seven with a splitting headache and a mouth like the Sahara, because my body was like,Hey, instead of sleeping, why don’t you regain consciousness so you can appreciate each and every nuance of this glorious once-in-a-lifetime kind of hangover?
After several trips to the bathroom — where I mostly just dry heaved — I decided I ought to return to the scene of my crime, beg forgiveness, and offer my services in case there was some cleaning up to do.
Of course, there might have been another motivation. If the bartender from last night is here, maybe I can ask her about Joey.
I don’t care about the forbidden fruit principle, or the bro code. A girl’s gotta fight for her happiness.
I pause outside the entrance to The Pulaski. It’s a crisp, sunny morning — somewhere in the forties I’d guess — but my forehead is sweating. Some of the booze is trying to work its way out of my system. I wipe the sweat with the back of my hand and take a deep breath, steeling myself for . . . well, whatever happens next.
Maybe it would be better if no one’s here. This way I can go home, crawl back under the covers and sip on a Gatorade, and hate myself for drinking so much until I drift off into nap oblivion.
I’m about to cup my hands around my eyes and peer into the bar’s darkened window when the door opens. It’s her — the bartender from last night.
She scowls at me. There’s a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth, and she has a full garbage bag in one hand. “Look, lady,” she sighs, “if you came here to bitch at me for throwing you out last night, you can save your breath.”
“Actually,” I reply, “I came here to apologize. I . . .”
I’m not sure what to say next. Maybe I’m distracted by this woman’s breasts. They’re massive! They’re pushing out of her leopard-print top like they’re actual leopards, trying to escape. I’m as straight as they come, but it’s a little hard not to stare. I’m both impressed at her ability to work them, andwondering if she has back pain.
The bartender, whose name I wish I could remember, folds her arms across her chest — or rather, on topof her chest. “You what?” she says, her cigarette bobbing as she speaks.
I hang my head. “I acted like an idiot.”
“Uh, yeah. You think?”
“Yeah,” I say, ignoring the woman’s sarcasm. “Hey, can I ask your name?”
“Why? You wanna report me to the manager or something?”
“No, of course not.”
“Good, ’cause Iamthe manager; I own this place.”
“Oh wow,” I say, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “That’s awesome.”
We stand there for a moment, awkwardly. “So,” I finally say, “are you going to tell me your name? I just . . . well, I feel like I can do a better job apologizing if I know who I’m apologizing to.”
She looks me over, and she’s clearly deciding whether to express disgust or amusement. Finally, her face softens. “Katie.”
“Katie, I’m Bethany,” I say sincerely. “And I feel terrible about last night. I was very, very drunk and I would understand if you’d never want me drinking here again. And I’m totally willing to pay for those broken glasses. Just please don’t take it out on Jax and Julia. They had no idea I was going to act that way when they invited me. It was out of character for me.”
Katie studies me and chuckles. Smoke plumes from her nose like she’s a crafty dragon from a fairy tale. I can’t help feeling a twinge of admiration for this badass girl who runs a bar, while simultaneously making sure a bunch of firemen don’t forget their manners.
