The Violinist

Relaxing

I work all night. Serving, cleaning, bussing tables, and restocking the bar. It was a busy night to say the least but this time was different. I was actually having fun. Talking to the patrons, joking, smiling and even flirting at some points. I felt good. Better then I had for a long time. As I serve one of the regulars, my phone goes off in my pocket, a familiar buzz against my leg. Ignoring the sensation, I continue to pour the liquid drugs into each cup, glass, shot, and sniffer until the buzzing becomes an annoyance. Signaling I am on break, I walk quickly to the back and pull out my phone. I see the texts and calls are all from Ia, the girl that I have so desperately tried to avoid. I clear the notifications and walk back to my station. As the night nears it inevitable end, a girl approaches me. I recognize her as one of the first people I served tonight and I greet her. I immediately smell the alcohol and am put off by any advances she may make. She sways on her feet and proceeds to tell me that she wants me and would like me in her room. As flattering as this may be to others, I find it slightly demeaning. Not only is she so drunk, she can not hold herself up, but is attempting to do this in the middle of my work time. I decline and as I read to refill a glass she writes her number on my arm. I sigh and take my arm back as she walks away. I finish the night by cleaning the club and I go to pick up my coat. While I look sweaty and tired, my attire remains as flawless as when I took it off the hanger. I walk out to the cool clean air and look around. Not seeing anyone, I begin to take the path home when I stop almost as soon as I started. I check the time and it is three thirty in the morning. Deciding not to go home, I begin to walk the streets of my town. With the dark and melodic tunes of The Weeknds: the Trilogy playing over my headphones, I gain a new appreciation for the night and the little life I have. With the buildings illuminating the skies and being their own stars, the silence of the world, save the occasional passing car, and solemnity of being alone in a such a place with nothing but powerful beats coupled with the cold chill of a breeze and weather truly bring art into the reality of life.