by David Sharp
Daniel wiped his nose, breathed in deeply, and smiled a goofy smile.
"Are you ready to go out there?"
Daniel sniffed, "Why not?"
"Look, I need you to go to station four and ask for a bus tub. All you have to do tonight is keep the floor clean, empty ashtrays, and pick up glasses. When a bus tub is full, drop it off at station one or four and they will give you an empty one." Stina touched the frosted glass of the frame and put a finger to his green lips.
"That's all?" Daniel felt the energy build within.
"You're working the floor, that's it - simple circles. I'll see you out there." Stina covered the glass and was off with a freaky Frankenstein's monster wink.
Daniel watched the door shut and asked the empty space that was left behind, "Where is station four?"
*
Daniel walked out with determination into the melee to the strains of Madonna's Fever. Confused at first, he guessed the station to be to the right and walked along the back of the stage. He had to dodge patrons on both sides of the tight corridor. The colorful crowd parted from his path with some effort. Daniel reached the bar and saw a barback washing glasses in the sinks behind its end. The worker was older and wore a vintage Star Trek uniform: a red shirt at that, indicating that he must be the first to die in a random episode.
"Hey, can I get a bus tub?" Daniel shouted over Madonna's over sexed voice.
The barback cadet looked up with a screwed up face full of questions and pockmarks. "What?"
"I need a bus tub!" Daniel said louder.
"You're the one." The barback reached under and pulled up a black plastic bus tub. "Do you know what to do?"
"I think so." Daniel took it and played around with which way to hold it.
"Good." And with that word, followed by a shot of a plastic ray gun, the barback walked off in the opposite direction, down the inside of the bar.
Daniel took a deep breath, felt his heartbeat, and looked over the scuffed up tub in his hands. With an end hooked to the edge of the skirt on his waist and a handhold on the other, he went into the crowd. The club was packed, even more so than when he had first arrived. He pushed his way into the thick of it toward the drink rail that mostly surrounded the dance floor, beginning to fill the tub. Chad nearly ran him down while he picked up drinks. The near collision brought laughter. Daniel was fascinated with Chad's costume: a fox fur loin cloth, the tail, and a body and face painted like the animal. The red and white paint went from head to toe.
"You look amazing!" Daniel was so enamored that he forgot what he was wearing.
"You look very Rocky Horror, dude!"
"Oh yeah, Stina did this to me!"
Chad laughed again. "Well, I have to get back upstairs now that you are here!"
"Okay." Daniel wanted to say something more but was too excited and could not.
"Don't worry, it's easy!" Chad clapped Daniel on the shoulder and disappeared into the sea of club goers.
Daniel continued to work on clearing the trash and glass filled rail, organizing the empties in the tub as he went along, the entire time distracted by the image of Chad as a fox.
A gay Smurf snatched a drink back from his hand. "Hey, that's my drink!"
"There was only ice!" Daniel gave the blue man a disconcerted look.
"I like the ice!"
Daniel ignored the Smurf and took a second to look at the people. Costumes of all sorts came in and out of focus, but the ones that grabbed his attention were the animals. Canine, feline, cartoon and mascot, they were either in the mix or in the dark corners of the club. The music changed to Little Bird by Annie Lennox. Daniel looked up to the DJ booth on the second story, but could not see who was spinning vinyl. The tub was filled amazingly fast. A bear bumped into Daniel, knocking him off balance and sloshing the tub's contents. After regaining his footing, he made his way to the opposite bar and set it down there.
A tall, blondish, English bartender clad in leather appeared and pointed, "Look missy, get that off of my bar. Take it to the other end."
Daniel did not bother to reply, except with a flash of a hateful smile. A feeling of ridiculousness washed over him as he crossed to the other side.
Gustavo looked up from doing the dishes with a pig nose rubber banded to his face, made a moaning noise, and snatched the tub away. Daniel was confounded when another bus tub was thrust at him.
"Go," Gustavo dismissed him with a word.
The return to the rail was short, only part way down, and the tub was full again. He dropped it off with the first barback and was out again. After only a few glasses, there was a tug at his skirt. It was Chad, and in that moment the music changed again to the smooth electronica of Shades of Rhythm by Sounds of Eden. He followed the lead, setting down his work beside the dance floor, and moved out under the lights with Chad the fox. The moment held a strange magic as they danced. Even being dressed like a freak did not matter. In fact, nothing mattered except for the beat of the song. The spell only lasted a minute or two, but the dance was sublime. Chad was gone again, his tail tucked between his legs. Breathlessly, Daniel finished filling the tub, in awe of the random moment that had passed.
Back at station four, he slid a full tub back onto the bar.
"Hey, slow down. It's not a race."
"I can't help it if I'm fast."
"Yeah, by the looks of what you're wearing, I'd say that's true."
"What, this?" Daniel picked up the skirt and flashed some glittered skin.
"Put that away before you put someone's eye out." The barback was flustered. "You are bad."
"No, I'm not. I'm just drawn that way."
"Right, come on then."
"The name's Daniel."
"Well, Freddy here," he tapped his own chest for emphasis, "is getting us shots."
"Okay," Daniel rested his elbows on the bar as Freddy fetched Max.
There was a temporary lull in the crowd and Max came over. Dressed in Victorian vampire garb, he lined up three shot glasses. He looked at Daniel and said through his fangs, "What are you supposed to be...a butch maid?"
"No. I'm a gay skinhead in a skirt." Daniel showed off his combat boots.
"Oh Lord," Max filled the shots with Yagermeister, the thick cough syrup-like liqueur, careful of his ruffled sleeves.
The three of them each grabbed a shot and a pale Max made a toast. "Here's to Trade's newest...well, trade."
"Who fits right in this crazy place," Freddy finished.
"Cheers," they all said together, then clinked and downed the shots.
Secretly, Daniel wished to have his own tail. And with a preoccupied mind, the rest of that night passed in a blur of color and sound. Trade was a wonderland of a place, a dance club where anything could happen, like Studio 54 in New York in its heyday. Daniel could not get over the fact that he was actually working there. And he did fit right in, although it took days to get the glitter off.
Chapter Four:
The interior of the Trade office seemed different the following Friday. Daniel took one of the bar towels handed to him, folded it, and tucked it under his belt. Nice and neat, the towel completed Daniel's uniform of jeans, white t-shirt, and combat boots.
Stina, no longer green but slightly discolored by the paint from Halloween a week ago, looked him over. "You did a good job last weekend."
"Thanks," Daniel shifted from foot to foot.
"No, really, I was pleasantly surprised with your work ethic. Even your dance with Chad was not long."
"Okay...I'm not sure how to take that."
"It's just that the wild ones usually aren't the best workers."
Daniel's lip curled involuntarily. "Okay...I may be wild, but I am a good worker."
"I hope that stays true. Tonight, I want you to train with Freddy."
"No problem." Daniel felt confident, perhaps overly so.
Club Trade was brighter when closed, its lights white instead of colored. Daniel walked across the empty dance floor toward the ice
room when Freddy came out with a full ice bucket.
"Dan, follow me."
"It's Daniel. I hate Dan." Daniel picked up his step to keep up and followed Freddy behind a bar for the first time.
Freddy dumped the ice in well and shoved it around with a metal scoop. "Let me show you where everything is."
Daniel glanced around from bottle to bottle and looked out across the club. "It's so different being back here."
"Yeah, when we are open you are safe from them," Freddy motioned to the imaginary customers who would be real later that night.
Daniel rapped his knuckles on the bar top and liked the solid feel. "Okay. How does a night begin?"
Freddy exhaled, "First..." The voice trailed off and the night had begun with the echoes of it, a constant reminder to Daniel as he worked his shift.
*
Daniel tailed him as he was shown the layout of Trade. The downstairs had two long bars, and that night they were working the one by the door that housed stations one through three. The introductions were swift and fast, and Daniel took it all in stride on the tour. The bartenders were Rory, the British man that Daniel already disliked, and George, a big old country fellow with a firm handshake. Stationed opposite the dance floor were four through six, with Ned, a sketchy type of character, and Max, Daniel's favorite bartender. Gustavo was their barback, having traded sides so that Daniel could be trained. Upstairs at seven and eight were Eddie, a big former stripper that was supposedly straight, and his barback, Darren, who winked on sight every time Daniel was in sight. Lastly, at station nine (the art bar) were Jeff, a slightly older guy with quite a drug fueled attitude of fun, and Chad, who looked ready to cause trouble as usual. Strangely enough, he did not say a word to Daniel while he set up as they passed by.
Daniel wanted to ask him things and wondered if he was mad at him for some unknown reason or wrong.
"Do you have any questions?" Freddy waved a hand in front of Daniel's blank stare.
"Yeah, I was just thinking there's no way I'm going to remember who's who."
"Trust me, you will. Let's finish setting up the bar."
Ice bins were filled, sour mix was made from packets and shaken up, limes were cut, and the bar was readied for the night. The lights went down and the music pumped up. After a few turns around the floor, Freddy showed Daniel how to wash the glasses. There were three sinks in a row: one was for dumping, a second to clean with brushes on suction cups at the bottom of the soapy water, and a third filled with chlorine tab infused hot water to sterilize.
Daniel was clumsy at first, but cowboy George took over from behind at one point to show him the proper way by guiding his hands from sink to sink. Daniel looked back and smiled at the closeness of their bodies, already feeling like he was being a tease. He thought maybe he was just drawn that way, or hoped so at least.
Rory was a different story, not one he wanted to know. He learned real fast to stay out of his way, yet to make sure he had what he needed.
Daniel heard Freddy's voice in his head and remembered that he needed to put the washed glasses away under the bar. Gus dropped off a bus tub from the floor and gave him an impatient look. Daniel handed him a clean one and Gustavo just stared at him for a moment. In response, Daniel stuck two fingers into his mouth and pulled out a stream of spit and let it stretch and break like a viscous gel before dripping on the bar.
Gustavo grunted through his pig-like nose, smiled, and said, "Dirty."
Daniel laughed. Gus' real nose reminded him of the pig mask from Halloween. Chuckling at the twisted thought, he wiped down the bar with a towel. The joke obscured when he heard the gasping sound of a spout pumping air instead of soda. He almost panicked as he rushed over the top of the bar, missing a couple of patrons as he ran to the office.
On the other side of the door, he saw Stina fanning an unconscious thong-clad male dancer, who was slumped down in a chair, his eyes rolled back white.
"I have to change a box." Daniel moved past them and fumbled with a hose before remembering the twist. The soda gasped into a solid streaming pumping noise as it was back in action. Proud of himself and wanting to say so, he looked to the drama unfolding with the dancer and was shooed out instead.
The night consisted of circles, round and round. The time flew by as its invisible hands circled the clock. A variety of guys, some hot, some not, made suggestive comments or hit on Daniel, but he kept busy and refused to slow down for anyone. Closing time came. After the last patron was chased out, everything had to be wiped down and the beer restocked in the coolers. Most importantly, he remembered Freddy saying that side tips were handed out then. There was a pool from the sales that was split between the barbacks at the end of the night. The sides were extra from individual bartenders for good work.
Daniel bumped elbows with Chad as he came out of the office with a couple of cases of beer. Strangely enough, he could not put words together and he moved to the side, watching Chad walk away toward the stairs. Distracted by the fox tail hanging from the back of Chad's pants, he was surprised when George nudged him and handed him a side.
"You did a good job, boy."
"Thanks," Daniel pocketed the cash, and seeing Rory scowl, he realized that no tips were coming from that direction.
The last task was the dumpster. Daniel struggled and dragged out a heaving trash can as he followed the other barbacks on the same path. Outside of the patio gate, Gustavo was on top of a dumpster taking a can from Freddy's outstretched arms. Chad fought with his as it leaked on him, and he spilled a torrent of foul language toward it. Daniel managed to get his own can up and felt out of breath from the effort. Eddie came out into the garbage circus to show off his muscles, one-handedly strong arming a few of the cans. Daniel was exhausted, and the memory of the beginning of the night with Freddy on the patio came back to him.
"Then we all dump the trash and wait to get paid."
"We get paid in cash every night?"
"Yeah, every night we work."
"No shit?"
"No shit."
Freddy clapped a hand on Daniel's back as he passed, reminding him to grab a can. "I think you got it."
"Thanks, I'm quick that way."
Daniel slowly dragged an empty back to the patio and caught Chad's stare as his pace was matched. Their eyes locked as if they were in the wild. A torrent of thoughts, bestial in nature, passed between them as they sized each other up silently. Satisfied, Chad winked and walked ahead as Daniel awkwardly winked back. Scared and aroused, Daniel knew that things were about to change in the near future and he finished the shift with a smile.
Chapter Five:
Daniel and Patrick were curled up in bed at the loft, watching some bad movie about killer animals on the VCR underneath the sheets and in underwear. A lull in the film occurred with a ragtag group of survivors trekking down the side of a mountain in between attacks.
Patrick stretched. "How's your job? You haven't said much about it in the last week and a half."
Daniel yawned and secretly hoped that a bear would attack somebody on the television to change the topic. "Weird. It's not like I imagined."
"Just remember, there aren't many jobs like that in the world."
"I hope not."
The bear finally attacked a screaming woman, causing Patrick to jump back, not from the sight, but from Daniel's fingers on his ribs.
"You're going to get it now," Patrick returned the tickle with greater force and drove Daniel crazy with laughter.
"Okay...stop. Please stop...please," Daniel squirmed but could not pull free.
Patrick relented and pulled Daniel close, "You're mine, right?"
Softly, Daniel said, "Yes," and watched with one eye as the bear on the video slashed red claw marks across another victim's face as Patrick stole a kiss.
"Do you want to do it again?" Patrick put a hand down Daniel's underwear.
Breathing heavier, Daniel pulled free. "Let me get something to drink first."
Pat
rick leaned back, showing off his bulge, his hand still in play. "Don't take too long."
Daniel watched as Patrick removed his hand and stuck his fingers into his mouth. In turn, he straddled Patrick, bit him lightly on the neck, and tried to pull back, but was held by a firm hand on his rear.
"Alright, stop it. I'm thirsty."
"Hurry back, boy." Patrick snapped the elastic band for emphasis. "Bring me some water too."
Daniel got up, adjusted himself, and stumbled on a foot that had fallen asleep. "Are those guys still down there?"
Patrick barely heard what was said over another viscous animal attack, one by eagle, and asked, "The dancers down in the guest room?"
"Yeah, those guys, the strays staying here this week."
"I think one of them is...why?"
"It's strange - you never have an empty house."
"The bar pays me to let them stay. Plus, everyone loves out of town dancers at Straps. Don't worry about it."
"Fine," Daniel stuck his tongue out.
Patrick tossed a pillow that bounced off of Daniel's head.
"Alright," Daniel regained his footing. "I'm going."
Daniel softly stepped down the carpeted spiral staircase. Below was close to pitch black in darkness. A scream above caused Daniel to stumble on the last step and have a fearful moment that a shin was about to bash a piece of furniture. In the darkness, he swore that he heard something else, but convinced it was only his imagination, he let the idea go.
A soft green counter clock light led the way to the kitchen where Daniel felt around until he found the refrigerator. Light flooded the immediate area in a splash of white. He broke some ice free from a tray and dropped the cubes into some glasses already on the countertop. Daniel hoped they were clean as he filled them up with tap water. A moan startled him, but not from above. It was much closer and definitely downstairs with him. Frozen, barefoot, and in his underwear, he looked around.
Breaking his inertia, he hurriedly poured water from a pitcher into the glasses. The ice cracked on contact with the liquid. Daniel closed the fridge, ending the light. He could somewhat see in the gloom that remained and noticed movement at the edge of his vision. Halfway across the room, the moaning came again. Cold water spilled over the edge of his hand and that was when he saw in silhouette the source of the moan. A bear of a different sort, a naked overtly muscular man with a face contorted in a growl, squatted on something in the doorway of the guestroom.