Chapter 4: Friday Nights
It's starting to get busy. It's dinner time and the dining room is practically fully. Which is great. There are a few folks sitting at the bar but it's not the crowd that I expect it to be later in the night. Right now, it's more laid back and later it will be more high energy.
"The dining room is crazy tonight. Is there a home game tonight?" My dad asks as he slides past me. He has an order in his hand and is on his the way to submit it to the kitchen staff.
"Yeah. There's a girls basketball game tonight." I tell him. I heard one of the guys at the bar talking about it.
"Okay, good. Looks like we will have a busy night then."
"Yep." I nod. It's true. Usually, anytime there is a high school home game of an sort, we have more business. Both before and after the game. Tonight it's girls basketball and it looks like a lot of families have come in for dinner before they head to the game. They are all decked out in the school colors and some of the younger kids have face paint of little M's on their cheeks.
A guy flags me down for a refill and I walk over to him. "Can I get another beer, please?" He asks.
"Yep." I take his glass and refill it before bringing it back to him. "There you go." I say with a smile. He smiles and nods and turns back to the conversation he is having with his buddy.
"Hey." I hear from my right. I don't recognize the voice. I turn my head and there she is. I go over to her. She pulls out the stool that she always sits at. It's conveniently unoccupied.
"Hey." Is my response. "What can I get for you today?" I ask with a welcoming smile.
"Just a beer. Bottle, please." She says and looks around the bar. She looks at everyone in the bar and then her eyes dart over to the dining room area. From where she is sitting she can't see the whole dining room only maybe half of it but can get an idea of what's going on in there. "Pretty busy tonight. More so than last Friday."
"Yep." I hand her her bottle of beer. "Home game tonight."
She nods and I assume she knows what I am talking about and don't explain further. "Basketball?" She asks and I nod.
"Girls." I say and she nods.
"Ah, high school." She sighs. I'm not sure what that means but I nod anyway. Suddenly I'm curious to where she went to high school and if she was in any clubs or sports. Maybe I can ask her at some point.
She is watching a family. A mom and dad and two kids maybe ages 10 and 12. So, I watch the family too. I watch as the mother helps her daughter put her coat on and zips it up and kisses the little girl on the top of the head.
I smile and turn but to look over the bar and see if anyone needs anything. When I see that they don't my eyes return to Santana. She has her beer tipped back and is draining it as quickly as she can.
"Whoa, slow down there tiger." I joke.
She finishes the bottle and slams it against the bar top. She has one eyebrow raised at me. And that scowl is back. I could have sworn that it wasn't there a minute ago or when she came in. It's like her mood has done a 180 in the last two minutes. "Get me another." She says in a low gravely voice.
"Okay." I go over to the beer cooler and pull out another beer for her. It's a little alarming to me at how fast her mood changed. Everything seemed fine and then, BAM, angry Santana again. I guess I will have to be more careful with what I say. I don't want to make her mad.
I hand her her drink but she doesn't say anything. Not so much as a thank you. Her eyes now glue on the tv up in the corner. Sports Center is on. Either she really like sports or it's just a distraction because her focus never leaves the television, not once. I stand there for a few minutes watching along absentmindedly. But my mind is spinning with questions about the sudden change in her behavior.
Someone yells my name and a turn around to go over to them. It's a guy that always come in here on Friday nights. I can't remember his name though. "How are you?" I greet.
"Good. Can I get a Captain and Coke" He asks.
I nod. "Sure. Be right back." I scoot over a few feet to make his mixed drink. It takes a minute to make and then I slide back over to him, handing him the glass.
"Thank you, very much." He says with a grateful smile. I love polite people. It makes the little things so much better. A simple thank you can go a long way.
I look down to the end of the bar where Santana is sitting. She's not looking at the tv anymore. She looks like she is just staring at the back wall of the bar. It hits me then. She looks more sad than angry.
I walk over to her. "Another?" I ask.
She shakes her head really quickly and looks at me and I can see the confusion in her eyes. I repeat the question and nod towards her beer bottle. "Yeah." She pushes the bottle to the edge of the counter and I swipe it up before it can fall on the floor.
I get another bottle and bring it back but don't set it on the bar for her. "Having a bad day?" I ask.
She narrows her eyes at me. "No." I stare at her and she stares back at me. "Can I have my damn beer now?" I drop my eyes from hers and hand the beer over. I definitely lost that stare down.
Feeling defeated a go over to Sugar. She's just standing there looking bored. "What's up, Sug?"
"Not much. How's it going with Ms. Crabby Pants over there?"
"Great." I deadpan. "She is a bucket of joy."
"Seems like it. What's her deal anyway? I saw her here last Friday but I've never seen her before that."
"I'm not really sure. She said she's never been here before last week and she seems mad or sad or maybe both."
"Yeah, good luck with that." Sugar says and punches me on the arm. She slides up to an old guy at the end of the bar and starts talking to him. She's a bit of a spaz sometimes.
The bar isn't too busy and everyone seems good for the moment so I slip behind the door and into the kitchen. Maybe that was a bad idea. It's chaos in here. Will and Finn look like chickens with their head's cut off. They are preparing multiply meals at once. My mom is back here helping out. She always works in the kitchen on Friday nights. It's the busiest time of the week for food orders so they need the help. And then there's the dishwasher girl, I think her name is Marley or something. She washing the dishes as fast as she can and putting them through the dishwasher and drying them as soon as they are done.
"Wowzers." I breathe out as a walk through the kitchen and into the walk in cooler. I stand in there for a few seconds and try and collect my thoughts. There is so much buzzing through my head. Work, Santana sitting at the bar, how busy it will be the remainder of the night, all spinning around in my head. After it gets kinda cold, I grab a case of beer and haul it back out to the bar.
Once I put all the new bottle of beer into the cooler behind the bar I go back over to Santana. "Whatcha watching?" I ask as I see her watching the tv again.
"Whatever's on. Basketball I guess." I look it's not Sports Center anymore, it's college basketball.
"Right. So, you done with that one?" She nods so I get her another. "You gonna sit here all by yourself all night again?" I can't help but ask.
"Do you seen anyone else with me?" She growls.
"No, I just-"
"You just what?" She shoots back. I shrug. I don't know what I thought. I'm not sure what to say so I leave and go into the dining room. It's a little less congested now. It's quieter than the bar and I stand there for a moment before heading back to the bar.
I serve a few more people than get Santana another beer. That's five in like three hours or something.
I stand by Sugar for a while and listen to the conversation she is having with a middle aged black woman. I think they are talking about weaves or something to do with hair. Something that I have no idea about, so I just listen.
Santana waves me down to her a few minutes later and I get her another beer. I can tell that they are starting to effect her now. Now that she is a little loosened up maybe I can talk to her without her ripping my head off.
"So, can I ask-" I set the beer down on the counter. "-where did you go to high school?"
"Here. McKinley." She says and grabs her drink and turns her attention back to the basketball game on the tv.
"Hey, me too. I don't remember you though." I'm surprised. I'm almost sure I would have remembered her if I had seen her at school.
"We weren't in the same class." She says in a monotone. So, does that mean she know who I am or remembers me from high school?
"But, it's not big school. Well, it kind of is but it's not that big. I think I would have seen you. How old are you?"
"23, why?"
"Just curious." I shrug and think about it for a few minutes. "So, that means you would have been a senior when I was a sophomore."
"Very good, Sherlock." She rolls her eyes at the tv.
She still seems agitated about something. I don't really think it has anything to do with me. I hope not. But, I wish I knew what it was. Maybe I could help. I don't know, talk about it or something. It always helps when I talk to somebody about a problem that I am having.
"Can I ask you something?" She turns away from the tv and actually makes eye contact with me. "You don't have to answer if you don't want." Hoping that will take some of the pressure off.
"Okay."
"What's wrong? I mean, why do you seem so angry?"
She narrows her eyes further and I think she is going to give me an answer. A few seconds go by and I just wait. She shakes her head a tiny bit and turns back to the tv and take a drink of her beer. She sets the bottle down, empty. "Another."
I sigh and take the empty beer bottle and get another one for her. I don't think I've ever met a more difficult person to talk to. I bring her back her fresh beer and stand in silence and watch the basketball game with her.
It gets busy again at about 9:30. The girl's basketball game is over and everyone comes in to celebrate a win. A lot of pizzas are ordered, a lot of sodas for the kids and a lot of alcoholic beverages for the adults. It keeps us busy until almost 11.
In that time, I gave Santana two more beers. She never talked to anyone. She just sat there on her stool and watched tv. Every once and a while I would catch her watching what I was doing. But, other than that she just sat there. She is clearly drunk now and I feel bad. Like it was my doing. That I am at fault for her being drunk. But, I was just doing my job and serving her whenever she asked. There's a point in the night when it's too much and that point has been reached. For a tiny girl she can really hold her alcohol.
So, when she asks for another beer after she finishes her ninth, I say no. She groans but doesn't fight me about it. She slowly brings her head down to the bar top and rolls her forehead back and forth.
It's unusual but whatever. Drunk people are unpredictable, at best. "I can call you a cab if you want to go home."
Her head shoots up off the counter and she nearly falls backwards off the stool. I reach forward and grab her forearm to steady her. She looks down at my hand on her arm. "I don't want to go home." She slurs to my hand.
"Okay. But, I'm not giving you anymore alcohol."
She looks up at me. "Okay." She smiles. Like, actually smiles. The corner's of her lips lift and thin and her cheeks rise and her teeth make an appearance. And it's beautiful. I stare at it for probably too long because it disappears and then- "What?".
"Nothing. Just I've haven't seen you actually smile before." And then she is scowling again. Well, so much for that smile. "So, you want me to call that cab now?" I ask again. I don't know what the point of her staying here is if she isn't drinking, if she isn't here with anyone, and if she doesn't want to talk about anything.
She shakes her head. "No. I can't go home."
"Why?" I have no idea why she doesn't want to go home but I don't know what else I can do. She can technically stay her until closing time but then she has to go home.
"Not yet. I can't go home, yet." She mumbles.
"Well, you can't stay here overnight." I chuckle a little after I say it. I look down at her and she is hunched over the bar, staring up at me, and smiling again. It must have been what I said but I didn't think I would be seeing that smile again tonight. "I'm gonna go help Sugar over there." I point over to where Sugar is washing glasses. "Will you be okay here?" She nods and I smile at her before going to help Sugar.
It's 1:30 when I call for a cab. It's 1:45 when I hear the honk from outside. "Your cab is here." I tell Santana. She nods and stands up. She's a little wobbly on her feet. I want to go to help her but she seems to be getting to the door by herself alright. It's not until she can't get the door opened that I go over to help her.
I slide up next to her, wrap my hand around hers, that is on the door knob. "Here." I whisper. I turn the knob and push the door open.
I step outside and she follows me out. Her face is scrunched up and she looks all confused. "I had that." She slurs, I assume, referring to the door.
"Sure ya did." I joke. "Lets get you into the cab." I put a hand on her shoulder and guide her down the three step towards the cab. I pull the cab door open and she plops down in the seat with a thump. I giggle a little. To be honest, it's kinda cute her being drunk and obviously looser than she normal would be and not caring how she appears. "Alright. Uh- have a good rest of your night."
She squints up at me from inside the cab. "I'm just gonna go home and pass out."
What am I suppose to say to that. "Well, good luck with that." I guess that will do.
"Good luck to you too, Ms. Bartender." She turns abruptly to the cab driver. "Home James." She orders.
"But, I don't know where you live." The cab driver tells her and she rattles off her address quickly. I don't know how is can barely form a coherent sentence but can say her address as if she were sober.
I laugh. "Okay. I'll let you go." I shut the door, wait for the cab to pull away from the curb. Once it's gone I go back inside and start cleaning for the night.
My mind wanders over the night, and over Santana, and how she went from seeming like everything was fine and the next second all pissed off. She is a mystery, that's for sure. I wonder why she didn't want to go home and why she even comes here in the first place. Two Friday nights in a row she has come in here, all by her safe, and drunk herself into oblivion. There's gotta be a reason behind it. That's not exactly normal behavior.
I resolve in that second that if she continues to come in here, that I will do everything that I can to get to the bottom of it. To find out why she seems mad and sad and whatever other emotions I've seen cross her face. I saw her smile and it is a quite beautiful smile. And I think that she should smile more. And I will do whatever I can to make that happen.