The beach at night is very different from the day. Well it wasn't really night yet but dusk. In the day the beach you feel like its this endless warmth. The heat you get when you walk through the dry sand that it burns. The fact that you can feel the suns rays beating down onto your skin. And even the ocean here is warmer than on the east coast. But at dusk that illusion is almost shattered. The sand is just a little but damper. The sun is a little less beaming. And the ocean is a little colder. That doesn't stop from people coming though to feel the breeze and the sand smooth at their feet. I walk along the water. I enjoy feeling the water as well as the sand. It always baffled me when people say they hate sand or the beach. It's just one of those things you were just suppose to love. Like puppies or Finding Nemo. The clock almost struck 7 so I made my way back to the car, grabbed my shoes and uniform to head back to the Flying Seagull.
As I entered the building I wave a quick hello to Colin as I was putting my hair up in a stubby ponytail. My bangs and a few other short hairs falling into my face. I take my station at the bar and started taking drink orders. Luckily no one ordered anything more complicated than a beer.
My boss knew he could trust me at the bar because I don't drink. At all. I'm literally not allowed. At the age of two months my parents had the pleasure of finding out that their daughter had a hole in her heart. Nothing a surgery couldn't fix but it now has me have to take pills whenever I go to the dentist, a every four year so visit to a cardiologist, and not permitted to drink or get high. I consider myself very lucky. Plus it gives me a reason to just say no; and gives me this cool bartender gig.
Hours passed and the crowd finally started to slow down around the bar. Now they were getting the munchies and were settling at a table. I snatch for the dishtowel kept underneath the bar and started wiping down spilled drinks that was apparently too much for their glass to handle. I refilled the nut-bowls and added coasters around the bar all while serving customers either fancy fruity drinks, or beer. I still had 15 minutes before people were going to start ordering scotch. That usually happens around 10:00. I decided to take a seat for a while an just observe the environment. You could tell who planned to be here and who just walked in hoping for something. The way the place was layed out is that you got the kitchen in the back, bar in front of that, booths and tables like all along the outside, fancy stools and little tables circled around in the middle. Plus you have a small dance floor towards the right by the fish tank. I observe the partyers: those are the ones mostly in a small group over near the dance floor. The womanizers: the men who are on the dance floor with the girls with the really short outfits or they are over by the bar buying a pretty girl a drink. There are the had-to-be-heres': those are the people who were obviously dragged here by a friend an their friend is having much more fun then the original person therefore leaving them to a table usually picking at some food.
"Ahem." I hear a person clear their throat. I must've looked like I was lost in space. I shake my head and blink a couple of times to get back into reality. I look up to find the face of a Mr. Joe Walker staring right at me.