Hopes and Dreams

Chapter 2

George could hardly hear himself think. The tavern's crowd was particularly rowdy today. Drunk men too confident for their own good were pounding on the tables and demanding more food. One even stood on the counter and began to sing before Karl politely talked him down. Obviously, his coworker was handing the crowd much better than he was.

"Oi, we ordered some pints over here," a man shouted over the pandemonium. George groaned and left the table he had just finished helping to get the beers from the counter. It was only midday, so he still had hours of work left ahead of him. He picked up the tray that held the beers and began making his way to the table. Suddenly, his foot caught on something, sending him face-first into the floor and the beer spilling in all directions. The nearby patrons roared with laughter, especially the one with his foot still stuck out. George struggled to keep himself composed as he pushed himself off the wooden floor and assessed his soiled shirt. Disgusting.

"George, oh my gosh! Are you alright," Karl asked as he scurried over to help. He helped George to his feet and noticed his soaked shirt. "That's not good. Hey, it's almost time for your break anyway. Why don't you go and get cleaned up? I'll handle things in here?"

George shook some beer off his hands and looked at Karl. "You sure you can take care of things?"

"Of course I'm sure," Karl assured him, shoving him off in the direction of the washroom. "I got this!"

With one last disgusted glance at the man who had tripped him, George left the crowded dining area and walked to the back washroom. Before he got there, he passed by the storage room. A nagging thought pulled at his brain, so he stopped at the door and looked inside. The window of the storage room was cracked open and Dream was halfway inside. "You again," George asked with a smile.

"Eh, I wasn't doing anything," Dream said, sliding under the window and standing fully in the room. George still couldn't get over how much taller Dream was than him. "Besides, I knew you took your break around this time so I figured I'd come early."

"You've been coming for the last, what, two weeks? I wouldn't be surprised if you were never doing anything." George rolled his eyes at Dream's words, but he was still smiling.

"Maybe I don't; you don't know," Dream said with a shrug. It took him only a second to notice George's messy shirt. "Hey, what happened?"

George sighed, the scene replaying in his head. "It was nothing. I just tripped," he mumbled. He wiped a few remaining drops of alcohol from his hands onto his already soaked shirt.

"Well come on, you've got to have a washroom somewhere." Dream brushed past George and walked to the door of the storage room. Before he could open it, George grabbed his arm.

"Are you nuts," George hissed. "Someone could see you!"

"What? No way," Dream said dismissively. "No one ever comes back here except you and Karl. And me I guess." George let go of his arm and Dream opened the door. Sure enough, the back hallway was empty. He scanned the nearby doors and quickly located the one that said 'washroom'. He gave George a cheesy thumbs up of assurance before going inside.

The washroom was small but its size wasn't unusual. Most rooms in this part of town were that way. Inside was a chipped sink and a small bucket in the corner of the room. Dream went to the worn sink and turned a knob on a black pipe coming from the ceiling. Water began dribbling out from it. It appeared clean, but that wasn't certain. Once a small puddle formed in the sink, Dream turned off the water and grabbed a worn towel and dipped a corner of it into the water. He went to George, who was standing by the door, with towel in hand and started to use the dry end to try and soak up some of the beer. With Dream so close, George quickly became uncomfortable.