Pure | Cate Blanchett

Amanda

I pour another whiskey shot for the roundish, 40 something man. I can definitely tell he wants to fuck me from the way he looks at me. I just ignore it and place down the small shot glass in front of him.

"So you doing anything after work, missy?" I hear the objectifying tone from the round man's mouth. I look up from below the counter after I replace the whiskey bottle I used to refill his shot. I give him a smirk.

"Not you." I smile as I hear all the exclamatory reactions from the others seated at the bar. I wipe my hands off with a towel before ducking into the back room behind the bar.

I check the time and see my shift ends in just a few minutes, so I take that time to get my stuff together before clocking out. I sling my backpack over my shoulder, grabbing my helmet and head to my motorcycle that's parked across the street from the bar I work at.

The street lights dim glow lights the way across the almost deserted street. The small town is close to dead at 11pm. My motorcycle is the only vehicle in the small parking lot across the way. I saddle on, adjusting my backpack so it's secured, start my engine and head out of the parking lot. I pass the almost full bar lot as I make my way to the closest light, and towards home.

The town is quiet, except for the occasional open bar door. They fill the streets with drunken laughter and music as the night slowly progresses. I let the wind pass me and take my thoughts to another place; the constant course from home to work ingrained in my muscles lets me go on autopilot.

The cold air is humid from the rain earlier in the day. A chill sets in as I make the last few turns in the route towards the small park I live in. The trailer houses, old and new, creating a small suburb-like place just outside of town. The various mansions on the horizon slowly disappear as the fog sets in, and the threat of rain increases.

I drive up next to my small home and cover my bike to protect it from the rain. Taking off my helmet, I find my house key on my keychain and unlock my door. The cool air surrounding me as I place my helmet on the small table as I head for my room to change. The 'thunk' against the cheap linoleum filling the air.

I am quick to strip out of my ripped jeans and layered shirts and into some basic plaid pajama pants and a T-shirt I turned into a muscle shirt. I take a cigarette out of the pack on top of the fridge and place it behind my ear as I get myself a bowl of cereal for dinner. Grabbing a spoon, I make sure to pick up my lighter as well. I move my helmet to the opposite side of the seat cushions and set everything down.

I light my cigarette and begin to chill for the night. I take my time eating, taking a drag every few bites. I made sure to play some music at a lower volume to help me wind down for the night. Thank goodness I only work later afternoons and into the night. I am not a morning person at all.

I finish my dinner faster than usual and put out my cigarette in the unique ashtray on the table. It's blue glass with small stripper heel charms throughout. I found it at a garage sale a couple of years ago.

I do the dishes quickly. I don't have a dishwasher (for obvious reasons) so I dry them off and put them away. I tidy up my kitchen a tiny bit before settling on my small couch with a book. I don't have a tv, but I do have a laptop, except it's in my small bedroom and I'm too lazy to go get it.

I fall asleep fast, my book slowly falling down my blanket and to the floor with a soft 'thud'. The music helps me drift off into another dreamless and existent sleep.

***

The next morning I found my book on the floor and quickly decide to finish it. A couple hours later, I close my book and place it on the coffee table. I toss the warm blanket I had on me to the other side of the couch. Standing up, I start to get ready for the day.