Life Through a Lense

Chapter Two

Ivy was long gone by the time I begrudgingly opened my eyes, but there was a full (cold) coffee pot available. I groaned as I realized I hadn't plugged in my phone to the charger last night so it was going to be at least two hours before I could leave the apartment while it charged.

By the time I got to the bar it was two in the afternoon, which meant it was nice and quiet (something I needed after last night's fiasco). Even though I wasn't 'officially' in until three, I felt completely useless at the apartment so I dropped in early.

"You're here early," Phil, one of the other four managers, said. Phil usually did mornings and early afternoons. None of the other managers said a word, but we all knew that the only reason he complained about small stuff like not refilling a couple salt shakers or silverware to wrap was because he didn't have to deal with the late-night crowd.

I have some paperwork to do," I muttered.

"Oh yeah, I heard about last night," he said with fake sympathy. "Sounds like fun."

"I'll gladly trade places with you," I offered.

With two kids in elementary school, the time he worked was perfect for him. He had been here with Mitchell since nearly the beginning of time (as far as the restaurant was concerned). Because of seniority, Phil received the best shifts. Any other place with as many complaints about attitude, Phil would probably be fired by now, but Mitchell was loyal as a dog (I don't know what that says about their intelligence). And if Mitchell didn't love me so much, Phil probably would have gotten me fired a long time ago. So, we just managed (pun not intended) to treat each other civilly during the little time we had to spend together.

"Dana, I know last night was hectic, but table one's ketchup bottle was completely empty this morning," Phil screeched (a bit of an embellishment, but that's what it sounded like to me).

I gritted my teeth, reminding myself to take deep breaths instead of punching him. "I'll be sure to take care of that tonight," I muttered.

Of course, 99% of the time everything was perfect when I left, but there were some nights (like last night) that everyone was exhausted so one or two things would be missing. Everyone that worked with me were great (even Phil had some redeeming qualities, I'm sure, I just needed to find them), so sometimes they needed to be given a break after a long night. Unless money was missing from the register or I got a customer complaint about a waiter or host, I could let little things like a fucking empty ketchup bottle go.

Just as I was about to head in the back, a guy that appeared vaguely familiar walked in the door, but I couldn't quite place him which caught my curiosity.

"Hi, bar? Or would you like a table?" I asked the guy.

"Actually, I was wondering if the owner is here?" He said.

'Owner' caught me off guard. The last time someone came by asking for Mitchell, he had forgotten to pay a bill. Or this could be someone looking to sue him, but I couldn't imagine anyone in the world that would want to sue a man like Mitchell.

"Our owner is out of town at the moment, but I can help you with pretty much anything he would be able," I informed, still eying him to figure out why he seemed so familiar.

"Seems my little brother got into a little trouble here last night,"

So that's why he looked so familiar. He looked like an older version of the rich frat boy from last night. The more obvious difference was the sobriety. He had a different nose, he was slightly taller and his hair was shorter. Other than that, the resemblance was shocking.