The owner was the first generation of the family to move away from his Irish south Philly heritage, after buying into several other shady businesses he had become a man of means and settled his family in a wealthy suburban estate in South Jersey. He did his best to sequester his three daughters from their 2 street roots. Two of the daughters were true New Jersey debutants, but the middle daughter Katie had her grandfather and her great grandfather's blood running through her. Only in her mid twenties, Katie had multiple DUIs, assaults and even a high speed chase under her belt. All buried at great expense in lawyers fees, favors and bribes by daddy. You could take Katie out of 2 street, but you couldn't take 2 street out of Katie. She was an ardent drunken barfly and just after I started, Katie fell in love... with Tommy.While Tommy was no prize, neither was Katie. It was clear that he saw dollar signs. She saw... well I don't know what she saw, she was perpetually cross eyed drunk. For a month after discovering his daughter's forbidden love, the owner would sit at the bar gnawing on his cigar, beet red and staring at Tommy while mumbling "how did this happen?" While they were the grossest, drunkest, ugliest couple I knew, they were also one of the smoochy smoochy cuddliest. In 2 street fashion, that can only mean trouble.
I had gone back to New Mexico to visit my family. I came into the bar to cover a day shift on a Sunday morning only to find the bar trashed and the manager arguing with the cleaner. As I walked in I heard the cleaner yell through his three teeth "That's not slow gin, that's blood."
"No, no, don't worry it's just slow gin." the manager said in a persuasive tone.
The bar was trashed. There was broken glass everywhere, a broken chair and pools and splatters of what was clearly blood.
"What happened? I asked.
"I don't know, the place is a wreck, the money was left in the register with a note from Jon saying he and Michelle quit. I can't get them on the phone."
Just then Jon burst through the door. "I can't take this fucking place" he screamed. "I didn't sign on for this." He pointed at the red all over the walls and floor. "You see that? That's BLOOD."
"Told you." mumbled the cleaner.
Now, I've always likened the incidents at this bar to the way Vietnam vets describe combat. Hours of tedious boredom marked by minutes of sudden terrifying madness that comes at you from all sides. From the way Jon described the night before, he would agree.
Jon leaped at a chance to work my Saturday night shift so he could be near Michelle. With her silky waist long black hair, huge tanned breasts pouring out of her low cut tank top and the little belly ring winking from her washboard stomach, everyone was hypnotized by Michelle. Unfortunately so was Tommy. The bar was packed and Tommy and Katie were drinking for hours. With each beer Tommy's eyes became more fixated on Michelle's cleavage and his tone became more flirty. With each beer the fumes of jealousy steamed off of Katie's butter face. But on 2 street you don't take it out on your partner, you challenge your rival. Katie had enough and followed Michelle into the kitchen. Jon heard screams and found Michelle cornered by a kitchen knife wielding Katie who was bellowing "Back off my man." Jon pulled the knife from Katie and as Michelle ran past her, Katie grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head into the door. Michelle wiggled free and bolted out the bar with Jon in pursuit attempting to console. As they exited they passed three Columbians coming in. There was no catching Michelle and when Jon returned he found the situation in the bar to be much worse. When the old manager had taken the coke deal fall, it was under the stipulation that all parties involved were to send cash each month to soften the pain of imprisonment. Tommy hadn't sent a dime in six months and the Columbians had stopped by to give Tommy a stern message. Jon had bolted back into the bar to confront Katie and ran straight into the barrel of a revolver held by a Columbian who assumed the huge steel worker was running through the bar in order to try and stop Tommy's brutal beating. Katie had already been neutralized. She had lunged at them in his defense and was met with a bitch slap from a .38 and was laying stunned on the floor. Jon stood with a gun to his head for a full minute as he and the rest of the bar watched Tommy get bottles bounced off his head and his ribs kicked in.And in one night, the manager's plan to staff the bar with a new generation of non 2 streeters all but died. "I guess you're probably going to leave me too." he said crumbling onto a stool as his brother walked out.
I thought about it for a moment and said, "the only thing worse than having a job is looking for one."
I lasted 8 more months.
My Company
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