Drunk New Yorker

Chapter 1

"Goddammit," I muttered tearing the paper off my door and quickly looking it over. I had seen the bold letters reading EVICTION NOTICE from across the hallway, but I had hoped that Mr. Rossi had put it on the wrong door. No such luck.

I unlocked my front doors and tossed my keys onto the kitchen counter along with the eviction notice. There was no way I could make the rent on time, so I need to make a list of my possibilities. "Where is some fucking paper?" I said to nobody in particular as I started to rummage through my drawers until I found a pen and a notepad. I've been told over and over again to organize my shit but that would take away the fun of having to go on a scavenger hunt just to find some gum.

I sat down on my sofa and clicked my pen, now I can make my list.

How to Deal With This

A) Find a roommate who isn't a serial killer

B) Find a cheaper apartment

C) Become a crazy homeless person who plays the banjo.

So far option C seemed like the most likely one, though it doesn't seem like the most enjoyable, and I lived in Manhattan, there is no such thing as a cheaper apartment, so option B is out. Option A just seems very unlikely.

As an attempt to distract myself from my problems I checked my phone for text messages, unfortunately my phone reminded me I had responsibilities. Just what I needed, people yelling at me for not putting ice in their neat whiskey! But I needed money, and maybe today I would get lucky and people would actually tip a decent amount. Yeah right me, and maybe I'll also find a unicorn in the subway.

Speaking of subways, I had exactly twenty seven minutes to get ready before I would miss mine. I grabbed my eyeshadow palette and put on two shades, gold and brown, which I think compliments my hazel eyes nicely. Next is eyeliner, which was simple enough. Then I applied some red lipstick. Voila! A masterpiece if I do say so myself.

Luckily my uniform is simple enough, just all black, and since that's half of my wardrobe it's easy to find something to wear. I put on a pair of black jeans and a tight low cut blouse, just because I'm a lesbian doesn't mean I don't know how to get tips. I opted out on jewelry because it always got in the way of my work.

I pulled on my red sneakers and checked my watch, which showed me I had ten minutes to get to the subway. I grabbed my jacket and shoved my wallet, keys, and phone into the pockets before making a mad dash down my hallway, I then proceeded to run down fourteen sets of stairs before reaching the subway. Who says I don't get exercise?

I swiped my card and went into the cold station, and started to look at who I'll be forced to sit next to. There were multiple sober (though not for long) clubbers, a clown with a rainbow wig, and a gal who had the brightest red hair I had ever seen, were among the most interesting ones.

As soon as the subway's doors open everyone flooded in in hopes of finding a seat. Unfortunately all the seats were taken and I had to stand up, my legs are going to be absolutely exhausted by the end of my shift. I don't know why I still complain about not getting a seat considering I can almost never get one, that doesn't stop me though.

Quickly I checked my phone, now I had two minutes to get to work. I prepared to sprint off the subway as soon as the doors opened. One, two, three, and I was off. I weaved through the huge groups of people and started up the stairs. Now I had one minute to get to work.

The sidewalks weren't too crowded and I was only a block away from the bar. Of course that's the moment one of those animal activist decided to bump into me. "Hello there, would you be willing to share your opinions on testing makeup on animals," she said smiling and holding a clipboard. If I wasn't late to work I would probably stop and flirt with, hell any other day I would still stop and flirt, but I was already losing my apartment I didn't need to lose me job too.

I tried to simply walk away but she was persistent, so I decided to respond. "It is bad," I said hoping she would let me pass now, but I am not that lucky.

"Wonderful!" she said her smile getting even wider "So would you be willing to-"

"I am going, you can chase me down all you want but I got places to be." I said finally able to walk to get past her. I swear they are getting more stubborn every day.

I managed to get to the bar only about 5 minutes late, which is better than yesterday. It didn't look like there were many people there, which isn't unusual considering that the bar is called "The Sewer" and it isn't exactly much of a looker. Mainly under-aged kids and drunkards come here, but some of them tip decently.

Well, time for work. Whoop de do da.

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Song of the Chapter: Stressed Out by Twenty One Pilots