My job here is to serve customers, not judge them. And while I know not to judge a book by its cover, I also wouldn’t leave anything of value lying around. I make sure the cash drawer is properly shut, and I put the card machine out of reach.
“Is there an issue?” I grab a tea towel and start polishing glasses.
“Kick ’em out. Cancel their order and tell ’em to fuck off.”
I finish with the glass I’m doing, waiting for more of an explanation, but I don’t get one. All he gives me is a growing press of impatience which makes his eyes slit and adds an extra layer to his scent.
“Sure thing, boss.” I smile, flicking the tea towel over my shoulder. I stop at the kitchen first to pull their docket, and then I grab a tenner from the till before walking over to them.
They stop talking as I approach.
Sliding the money over the table, I say, “Sorry, ladies, management would like you to go.”
“Can’t kick us out,” the one closest to me says. The taunt in her expression becomes more evident the longer she stares at me in challenge.
Not breaking eye contact with her, I point over my shoulder to the sign hanging on the back wall, in a place no one can miss.
“Sign says different. Boss wants you to go.”
The woman on the other side of the table makes a move for the money, but instead of taking it, she flicks it off the table and it flutters to the floor.
I don’t go to pick it up, because she makes a show of lifting her T-shirt high enough for me to see the switchblade peeking out the pocket of her jeans.
“We’ll be staying.” She grins, and there’s nothing friendly about her smile.
I look all around me, feeling the eyes of everyone turning to watch.
“Nah, you won’t be. Management asked you to leave, and now I’m doin’ the same. Threatening me like you just did sealed your fate. Before, I would have stood here while you finish. Now, though, I’ll make it easy for you.” I reach over and grab both their glasses, taking them back to the bar.
I think I shock them because they’re slow in reacting, giving me time to come back to them empty-handed.
“Off we go, ladies, your time here is done.”
“We paid for them!” the one closest to me protests.
“And I gave you your money back. Which I didn’t have to do.”
Her friend comes closer, her hand hovering on her hip as they both stare me down.
The tension between us creeps higher the longer they don’t move or say anything. People are unpredictable at the best of times, but I can see the next play happening before it does. And since we’re in a crowded bar, and I have an aversion to knives, I take charge. Before she can pull the knife on me, I shove her friend out of the way and position myself behind her.
Purposely making my movements more reflective of a civilian than the trained professional I am, I disarm her by dropping her flick knife to the floor before tipping her forward and frog marching her through the bar.
Of course it’s become a spectacle, and nearly every patron is standing on their feet, catcalling and making more noise than revelers on New Year’s.
We get to the door, and I don’t stop walking until we’re out on the footpath. Talking loudly and clearly, I make sure there’s no way she can misinterpret anything I say. “I asked you nicely to leave. I was just doing my job, so don’t dare turn this into amesituation when you’re the one who was armed. Now, have a nice evening, ladies, and let’s not do this again.”
Neither of them lashes out at me as I go to walk off. I mean, I keep watching them and don’t give them my back just in case. A quick check over my shoulder confirms Johnny is holding the door open for me, so maybe that’s the reason.
“You got a good look at them, right?” he asks as I duck under his arm.
“Cause I made new friends, and they’re going to want to catch up later?”
“Aye.”
“What’s the story with them?”
“Dirty sluts who roofie, then roll their marks. They know not to come here.”
