I'm standing here on one knee, crouched down behind the beer cooler behind the bar at Court Square Tavern. My last customers left about 10 minutes ago, and I've got nothing to do really but type. One out of every eight Saturdays is busy, and tonight ain't a snake-eye.
I've got a song screaming out over the speakers, D.O.A. and Jello Biafra singing a cover of "We Gotta Get Out Of This Place" and it seems appropriate. I can't keep working here, not under these conditions, all by myself. It's too slow to merit putting a second person on, which means I have to cook, clean, dishwash, and serve the customers.
In a perfect world, I would love that challenge. I love when life's a video game with impossible expectations, yet I come through anyway.
But it's not a perfect world. And, this is really getting to me, the stress of being all alone in a place that should be doing better, but isn't. I have no power to get people to walk up the street to get here. All I can do is sit here and get paid while I get older.
It's been almost two years since my marriage ended, and my life has settled a bit, maybe too settled. I want a new adventure, a new quest, something to get me out of this rut of work, work, and play crammed into the tiny corners I have left.
At least I'm getting to write at the moment. I'm giving myself another 11 minutes, and then I'll hit POST and move on to cleaning up this place. This place that I love so much, but yet think it may be time to move on again. I feel like I'm trapped in a bad marriage here, feel like I'm giving a lot. I'm getting something back. I love the fact that we have new regulars, I love the fact that I make people laugh when I'm in charge.
I love making people happy.
Customers came in. Off I go.