"What can I do for you? Tell me. Give me something. I have felt like the biggest prick in the world for years, and I need to make this up to you somehow," he says while tearing the broom out of my hand, which oddly enough, gives me a great idea.
"I need a job more than I need air right now. You got any space for a bartender?"
"I'll fire Kacee. The job is yours.” He offers his wife’s job up awfully quickly, making me wonder what’s in it for him.
"Dude," I laugh. "You're not firing your wife for me."
"Are you kidding? I needed the help. We've been taking shifts so one of us can always be with the kids. Our sitter is sickeningly expensive, so this has been killing us."
Ever since Crow and I became friends when I started to hang at his bar, I was always the last to leave every night, never walking out the door without offering him a hand, but his affable rejection always made it clear he's a one-man show. More than a few times, he told me he'd never trust anyone enough to hire help. I don't think it was ever intentionally directed at me, but I never pushed the subject either. We came to respect each other's flaws, and a friendship was born.
"You sure you trust me?"
"I'm going to assume you were unlawfully accused of having sex with a child, and go out on a limb…"
And so, it begins. The defense. "You really think that little of me?"
"Mayor Leigh's daughter? For real, man? How old was she?" he asks with a squint to his eyes, reminding me of the mistake I've clearly paid for.
"Yup, Mayor Leigh's daughter," I repeat. "She was sixteen but told me she was eighteen. Fun shit, right? We good now?"
"You start in three hours," he tells me. "Come on in. Let me give you some cash so you can go buy yourself some clothes that fit. I'll feed you too. I know they wipe you clean before you get out of the joint. Plus, we're friendly to prisoners at Crows." He slaps me on my back as if it were the drumroll to his joke.This is never going to get old.
"Crow, dude, you almost just redeemed every one of your asshole qualities."
