New Year's Eve of '82 had arrived and so didn't the eleven o'clock crowd. Sam had warned Diane that this night has always been one of their busiest nights and not to get too overwhelmed. She wasn't quite prepared for this though. They seemed to be piling in by the truckloads and it was enough on Diane's nerves to make her shut down. How was she to get through this? She had thought to herself.
"Hey, Whitey," she felt Carla's abrupt nudge to her shoulder and woke up a little bit. "You better snap out of this little wuss ass trance. I'm going to need all the help I can get from you tonight!"
"Can you be anymore vulgar than that?" she asked, scuffing at the wuss ass remark.
"Sorry, I know I should watch my language."
"That would be very beneficiary..."
Carla didn't give her time to carry on. There was too many people and Diane alone was driving Carla crazy already. Diane thought she would just go about her business and went to get a fresh pad of ticket paper and pencil. As she picked up the pencil, she heard Carla say the "blonde weenie over there." Diane whirled her head around to see Carla sticking her tongue out and the two gentleman at the table grinning at her. She felt her heart drop as she was once again humiliated by Carla in front of the customers.
"Don't pay any attention to her," she heard her boss say from behind the bar. "Just do your job like you've always had. You can do this."
She smiled at him. She figured you couldn't help but like Sam. He really was a nice guy even though he as chauvinistic as one man could possibly be. He also had this warm, magnetic smile that transfers light from his aura to yours. Namaste, Sam, she often thinks to herself when he flashes that smile. With that shot in the arm of confidence, she was on her way.
She had amazed herself with her work ethic once she chose to focus. She wasn't at all suprised that on a night such as this that her customers wanted the creme de la creme of beverage. Champagnes, brandys, and wine of both kinds floated around the bar as if they were from God's ocean. Only Cliff and Norm were guzzling their ubiquitous beers.
"Get ready, everybody!" Coach screamed as Dick Clark was beginning the countdown. Everyone turned their attention to the t.v. screen and became hypnotized by the ball drop.
"10," they all began to chant in unison "9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1! Happy New Year!"
Diane wrapped herself up in this moment. People all over the bar were hugging and kissing each other as it being custumary to do so at midnight. She glances at Sam to find him kissing Carla's cheek and enveloping her in a friendly hug. He notices her watching him and he motions for her to get over there. She does as he suggests and he grabs her face from the behind the bar to give her a smooch on the cheek.
"Happy New Year, Sweetheart," he says not letting go of her face.
"Happy New Years to you too, Sam."
She peeks at Carla to see her giving them dirty looks. Diane, in a moment of uncertain triumph sticks her tongue out at her. This makes her mad and she stomps away to clean one of her unattended tables. Diane smiles proudly to herself. There is no way anybody is stealing this moment right now. She took it as an omen of only good, victorius times ahead.