starting at Maddy for about ten minutes, she finally told her how to sleep better.
“Ah girl, you gotta get laid and good and laid, not one of them quickies. One that lasts the night and you walk funny the next day kinda laid.”
“She’s gotta meet a man first, don’t ya, Mad?” Marabeth was the oldest stripper working at Puss n’ Boots at forty-four. She must still ‘have it’ as they were good at saying, because she brought in about two grand a week in tips alone.
“I’ve met one, thanks. And I didn’t care for him. He’s an arrogant prick and I’d rather sleep alone than be bossed around, thanks. Besides, he didn’t want me when he had me.” Maddy still stung a little about Kyle being sorry that he’d kissed her, but there wasn’t a whole lot she could do about it.
“Show time ladies and Marabeth. And leave Mad Hatter alone. Men suck.” Paul said with mock anger, as he winked at Maddy and went to the kitchen to get the grill started up.
The bar served a few dinner items from six until eleven or so and Paul did all the cooking. Jake, his son did the short order stuff and kept the pots and pans up. It worked out well for them as a family, the family that bar keeps together drinks together, and all that.
~~~
“Puss n’ Boots, what do you want?” Aaron pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it.
Okay, he thought, that couldn’t have been right.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” The surly voice on the other end confirmed that he had indeed heard them correctly. “Ah, well then is Madison Harm there by any chance?”
“Yeah, she’s standing on the bar,” the man on the phone told him. “She’s about to pistol whip some asshole who got fresh with Shelly. Hang a minute.”
The phone was set down on the bar with a bang. Aaron listened to the noises in the back ground and could hear Maddy telling some ‘ small minded, tiny dicked, poophead to either leave on his own, or she’d help him out via the meat wagon’ or something along those lines. She worked in a bar and by the sounds of it an unsafe bar.
“What,” she snapped.
“This is Aaron MacManus. What the hell is going on over there? I’m assuming this is
‘Puss n’ Boots’, it’s a bar?”
“Some nights,” she told him with a great deal of anger. “I have to tell a customer that just because he’s twenty-one it doesn’t give him the rights to grab someone’s tits as he called them.
And since he hit the bartender—me in this case I had to show him who’s boss.”
“And what was his answer to that may I ask.” Aaron could feel his anger about to boil over. This woman, he decided had a death wish.
“Before or after he spit on me? I pistolwhipped him. You don’t screw around with the bartender here. Who would make the fucking drinks?”
“Is it safe for you to be working in a place that you have to pistolwhip someone into submission?” He knew his voice was calm, but that wasn’t what he was feeling. Aaron had had fifteen minutes of listening to the byplay between her and the young punk and his anger had gown with each passing minutes. Someone needed to take her into hand.
“It was that or kill him, and I can’t be your lawyer if I go to jail for murder,” her voice sounded so reasonable that he wanted to murder her. “Besides, I don’t see where this is any of your business Mr. MacManus. I will do the job you want me to do and if you have a problem with that job, then you can ask me to stop, otherwise, fuck off. My jaw hurts and right now I’m not in the mood to be reprimanded by my daddy.”
“Let’s just say I’m making it my business. I want you to quit that job and I—fuck.” She’d hung up on him, just put the phone in the cradle and ended the call. He dialed the number again.
“Puss n’ Boots. What can I do to you?” This voice was chipper, almost childlike most assuredly not Madison.
“Madison Harm. Tell her it’s Aaron MacManus.”
Aaron was pissed off. He realized that
“Ah girl, you gotta get laid and good and laid, not one of them quickies. One that lasts the night and you walk funny the next day kinda laid.”
“She’s gotta meet a man first, don’t ya, Mad?” Marabeth was the oldest stripper working at Puss n’ Boots at forty-four. She must still ‘have it’ as they were good at saying, because she brought in about two grand a week in tips alone.
“I’ve met one, thanks. And I didn’t care for him. He’s an arrogant prick and I’d rather sleep alone than be bossed around, thanks. Besides, he didn’t want me when he had me.” Maddy still stung a little about Kyle being sorry that he’d kissed her, but there wasn’t a whole lot she could do about it.
“Show time ladies and Marabeth. And leave Mad Hatter alone. Men suck.” Paul said with mock anger, as he winked at Maddy and went to the kitchen to get the grill started up.
The bar served a few dinner items from six until eleven or so and Paul did all the cooking. Jake, his son did the short order stuff and kept the pots and pans up. It worked out well for them as a family, the family that bar keeps together drinks together, and all that.
~~~
“Puss n’ Boots, what do you want?” Aaron pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it.
Okay, he thought, that couldn’t have been right.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” The surly voice on the other end confirmed that he had indeed heard them correctly. “Ah, well then is Madison Harm there by any chance?”
“Yeah, she’s standing on the bar,” the man on the phone told him. “She’s about to pistol whip some asshole who got fresh with Shelly. Hang a minute.”
The phone was set down on the bar with a bang. Aaron listened to the noises in the back ground and could hear Maddy telling some ‘ small minded, tiny dicked, poophead to either leave on his own, or she’d help him out via the meat wagon’ or something along those lines. She worked in a bar and by the sounds of it an unsafe bar.
“What,” she snapped.
“This is Aaron MacManus. What the hell is going on over there? I’m assuming this is
‘Puss n’ Boots’, it’s a bar?”
“Some nights,” she told him with a great deal of anger. “I have to tell a customer that just because he’s twenty-one it doesn’t give him the rights to grab someone’s tits as he called them.
And since he hit the bartender—me in this case I had to show him who’s boss.”
“And what was his answer to that may I ask.” Aaron could feel his anger about to boil over. This woman, he decided had a death wish.
“Before or after he spit on me? I pistolwhipped him. You don’t screw around with the bartender here. Who would make the fucking drinks?”
“Is it safe for you to be working in a place that you have to pistolwhip someone into submission?” He knew his voice was calm, but that wasn’t what he was feeling. Aaron had had fifteen minutes of listening to the byplay between her and the young punk and his anger had gown with each passing minutes. Someone needed to take her into hand.
“It was that or kill him, and I can’t be your lawyer if I go to jail for murder,” her voice sounded so reasonable that he wanted to murder her. “Besides, I don’t see where this is any of your business Mr. MacManus. I will do the job you want me to do and if you have a problem with that job, then you can ask me to stop, otherwise, fuck off. My jaw hurts and right now I’m not in the mood to be reprimanded by my daddy.”
“Let’s just say I’m making it my business. I want you to quit that job and I—fuck.” She’d hung up on him, just put the phone in the cradle and ended the call. He dialed the number again.
“Puss n’ Boots. What can I do to you?” This voice was chipper, almost childlike most assuredly not Madison.
“Madison Harm. Tell her it’s Aaron MacManus.”
Aaron was pissed off. He realized that
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