The Scarred Man

Chapter 5

"Abmid it! Yooo beel somebin bor me!" I point accusingly at Boss.

"I feel-"

"Ha!" I interrupt in victory.

"-never-ending aggravation and hate for you." He finishes and I scowl. He smirks slightly.

"Dow, nod eben briendliness?" 

"No, not even friendliness. That is kind of the meaning of the word 'hate'  or did that cold go straight to your head and effect your thinking? You know what, it wasn't even the cold; that's all natural. Speaking of, go blow your nose you sound absolutely ridiculous."

"Bell, I wouln't be dick if yoo beren't do mean and bet me ein!" I protest his cruelty. It is not MY fault HE got me sick!

"No, I do believe you were a dick before all of this chaos too. And maybe if you looked even the least bit presentable I would have let you in. Now, go work."

"Dat bas bean. B-b- bas ERG-!" I clamp my mouth shut and leave his office, but not before giving him the finger and the tongue. I chuckle slightly. Oh, how society has ruined me. 

Eh, whatever.

I head back behind the counter and look at the clock. Four more hours to go. Then, I look around the bar and spot about five of the regulars. So far since working here I have learned a lot. Jose has a severe touching problem, which is why he was fired for personally assaulting the boss' wife, Sarah, who is another regular. Sarah was caught cheating on said boss and kicked out, leaving her essentially homeless due to her dependency on men. She really isn't that good looking so I am unsure why these people are even having this problem though. Benn is one of a kind and my favorite. He is an older man, about 50, who used to be a DragQueen. Business wasn't well and with no support from his family he was quickly left to the curb for a newer, 'prettier' Drag. He often tells me many stories of his Queenie days. Farah is the classic girl with a daddy complex and a splash of annoying spoiltness. Nothing much to say about her except she whines a lot. And then Rex, as he likes to be called. Rex is a pretty rich middle aged man that has a lot of trouble with baby-mommas. He likes to think of himself as some sort of gangster but cannot grow some guts to save his life, literally. I had to save him after he got into Benn's face. Even with all the makeup and clothes on Benn can be really scary and dangerous. Though I have to admit the extra couple minutes I sat at the counter were worth the scolding I got from Boss. 

Benn is definitely my best pal.

"So, what did Mr. I'm-Grumpy-Because-I-Can't-Get-Laid say?" Benn asks all the while twirling his fluffy feather scarf thing around. He laughs as I automatically cover his mouth with my hands, earning me a huge bright red lipstick stain across my palm.

"Shhh!! He baid ee bates meh. N' tah work more. Ya know, I dink he ss 'tartin' to wike me!" I exclaim with some difficulty.

"MMhmm, yea, that is totally what hate means babe. But you know what, I think he just has a little trouble showing his emotions. Probably some kind of daddy complex just like lil' spoilt Farah over there. Yea b*tch, I'm talking about you keep moving or you-"

"Benn!" I intercede, "Leab her awone, after all," I lower my voice and lean over, "not all of us can be bretty an' smart." We share a laugh which angers Farah. Halfway through the laugh I cough and sneeze roughly at the same time. And ow, and ew. 

Benn leans away to grab me a napkin, "Oh honey, you are sicker than my ex Earl, and that was after I slipped some anti-freeze in his Kool-Aid! You gotta get some rest!" 

"You killed your ex!" The only sentence I can actually pronunciate. 

"Pfft- honey. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. That shade of purple was NOT my color." Benn explains.

"If idda know you before, Idda billed 'im bor ya." I say and he laughs. 

"Why don't you take care of yourself before making threats. Snot is not all as threatening as you seem to think it is." He grabs my arm and leads me to the back room. I protest before being man-handled into the room and onto the couch. He sets a blanket over me and kisses my head. Just like a father. And though he is 50 he is a lot stronger than you would think. He leaves before returning shortly with napkins since we don't have any Kleenex.  

I grab his hand before he leaves. 

"Bank you."

He just laughs.

Not caring about the chaffed nose or lipstick stain on my forehead, I wander off to sleep. 

-----------------------

"Get up." I'm roughly shaken awake minutes later, or so it feels. I can barely open my eyes to the person in front of me. 

"Ehh?" I groan out, feeling ridiculously cold.

"We- --to-opstil" Is all I hear though I can see his lips moving. 

"Wa..esus?" I reply, and with a sudden bout of dizziness I fall back to sleep.

I don't even hear the, "Jesus?! Nevermind, we're going to the psych ward if you think I'm anything like- OW f*ck"

"I may play with corsets and bat droppings for a living but that doesn't mean I can't lay you down puny boy!"

I wish I could have.