Never to Return

Whiskey on Mars

June 30 1985 // Los Valles Prosperos Club, Hollywood CA // 12:30 am

Work fucking sucks.

But, there is no other way to pay the bills. Money truely does make the world spin. Too bad today hasn't really been all that prosperous.

I wanted to go home more badly than ever but I still had another two hours left in my shift. My life has been nothing but work, sleep and on occasions eating. Maybe, I should have tried harder in school.

There's only a few men scattered around the hole and I was standing mostly put in my positions. Even some of the regulars hadn't shown up today which upset me a bit since they always gave me the best tips.

"Hey, honey can I get another Budweiser here! " one of the men shouted.

Lord, help me.

I currently work at two jobs with this being one of them. My full time day job was much more enjoyable since I got to be around one of the things I love most, music. It was even more exciting for me since the whole LA scene is beginning to rise up with hair metal groups . I didn't actively listen to them but I didn't mind them at all. So, when I got a job at Tower Records it was like a dream come true.

If only I could only work there to maintain the apartment rent which is why I got a part time here at a shithole club.

"Here's a tip, doll. I love the service here" said the Budweiser man.

I smiled and walked away to get a chair near the register. The customers were all dispersed either around a pool table or watching some of the girls dance as Shout at the Devil played on the speaker system.

"Where the fuck is everyone, man? It's tamer that a church here." said John, one of my co-workers.

"Maybe, people landed on Mars this time and everyone got glued to the television set." I replied.

"We've getting people in here like we're on Mars. Might as well play Bowie while we're here. "

"Fair point."

Just as me and John rambled on trying to kill time, a sudden crowd came in and crowded around the bar and tables. They all look like they came out of the some mosh pit since they were all sweaty, loud, and half drunk already. I mean the Roxy and the Whiskey were around us so, a concert going this late would be odd.

As the crowd came in, more people piled in causing John, everybody working, and I to speed up production. There was people wanting drinks everywhere and I had to step away from the bar to get orders from the people sitting down. The dancers also had to get more active as people began to get more wild by the minute.

"Hey! Babe can I get a vodka on the rocks?!" shouted one of the guys in front of my face.

I served the drink in less than second as the man gave me a tip.

"Thanks, babe. Maybe I could get a drink here with you next me. You look hot in that uniform."

I smiled and giggled as cliche as possible, leaving him behind in order to get back to the bar. Guys here always tried to hit on me consistently even when there was strippers clearly in sight. I was the only woman bartender with the exception of Linda, who takes absolutely no shit from any guy and is about 30 years older than me. I didn't take shit either but I sort of let things go in order to get tips. My only exception was when I punched a guy who tried to get handsy with me and had to be restrained by two of my co-workers, which made most men who came over identify me as "the swift killer".

"Hey, can I get a bottle of Jack over here!" someone shouted.

I quickly grabbed the bottle and said, "Are you sure you don't want it in shots man."