It was a slow night at the Oyster Bar, being a Tuesday and all. Not generally the day when dates, family outings, and bachelorette parties happen. Tuesdays are for book clubs and PTA meetings, not getting a margarita with a side of sweet potato fries at the local bar and grill. Only in rare cases did the management have to toss a drunk out at closing time on a Tuesday.

This was a rare case.

Ray Torres was sitting at the bar, his head in his hands. And he was not leaving.

"Sir," said Jeff, "I'm going to ask you one more time to go home and then I'm calling the sheriff."

Mr. Torres managed a sad-sounding chuckle.

"Gohead 'n try, son."

Frustrated at being disrespected (and at the drunk's being right), Jeff stormed into the kitchen where Boo and Godot were finishing up dishes.

"That guy's impossible!" he fumed. "I can't get him to leave! Fabio, why don't you just defenestrate him with all your big, impressive muscles?"

Godot looked bewildered.

"He wants you to throw the guy out the front widow," Boo explained.

"No can do, bro." Godot picked a soapy plate. "Got a strict no-violence policy."

"Who is it anyway? Is it someone we know?" asked Boo.

"It's that guy who's gay but won't admit it."

"Mr. Torres?"

"Sounds right."

"Oh. I'll see if I can get him to go." Boo handed Jeff her scrubber.

Her heart dropped as she saw Sasha's dad sitting dejectedly at the counter. Dejected and decidedly drunk.

"Mr. Torres?"

Ray looked up and struggled to focus on the girl in front of him.

"Izzat you, Boo?"

"Yes, Mr. Torres." She wondered what she should say next. "Mr. Torres, it's time to close up, and I would really like to go home, so if you wouldn't mind, could you leave?"

"I like you, Boo. Lot better'n that pompompousy ass who tried t'make me leave before. So I'll just grab m'keys..." Mr. Torres fumbled around in his jacket pocket.

"Wait. I don't think you should be driving. Not like... Well, not like that. Can you call someone to pick you up?"

"Ha!" His voice was bitter. "Nooope. Gotta lover who's gone gone gone, a wife who hates m'stinkin guts, and a daughter who takes after'er mom."

Boo's mind raced trying to think of someone she could call. Charlie? No, that's just stupid thinking. Stupid, stupid Boo! Madame Fanny doesn't drive. Michelle? No, it's not fair to ask her. Plus Sasha would kill me if I called Michelle to pick up her soused dad. Sasha would kill me if I called anyone but her. She'll probably kill me anyway.

"Mr. Torres? I'm going to call Sasha." Boo thought some more. "Actually, no, you should call her. She won't be excited to get that call from you, but she'd be furious if she got it from me."

Boo took his phone from the counter and started a call to Sasha. When the phone started ringing, she handed it to him.

"Sash'-bear," he slurred, "I'muna need a ride. C'you come get me?"

Pause.
"I know you're probababably busy, but Boo sez I probababably shouldn't drive."
Longer pause.
"Thanks, Sash'-bear."

"She's coming?"

"Mmmhmmmm."

"Stay here while I clean up, okay? I want to help you get to the car."

Sasha pulled up five minutes later while Boo was sweeping and Mr. Torres was humming to himself.

"Got everything?" Boo asked.

When Ray answered in the affirmative, she led him outside. They met Sasha just outside of the front door.

"Oh. I thought you were going to stay in the car."

"Obviously not." Sasha's voice was positively acidic. She pointed at her father. "You. Passenger seat. Now."

"Sasha, I don't think..."

"Did I ask what you thought?" she snapped.

"You've gotcher mom's sc...scu...frown, Sash'-bear."

"Dad, get in the stupid car!"

Boo quietly opened the door of Sasha's car for Mr. Torres when he struggled with it, hoping to avoid invoking more of Sasha's wrath.

"Boo, do you need a ride?" Sasha demanded.

"What? Um, no. I'm fine. I'll walk. Or Godot will give me a ride."

"Get in. I'll take you home."

"But..."

"Get. In."

"I have to make sure everything's finished and clock out and stuff first."

"Text me. I'll come get you."

Rather than duke it out, Boo merely nodded and shut the passenger door.

"Bye, Mr. Torres. Bye, Sasha."

"Bye, Boo!" Mr. Torres waved.

Sasha said nothing and drove off.