The favorite part of my week….

28 Aug

The new staff in the new place is very likeable.

The manager digs me…she commented on my good work performance to the owner….and out of the three bartenders…two of them also double as security guards, and one of them works the night shift, five days a week. It makes me happy that this one is my favorite.

He’s young…..just turned 23…..but he”s got the stance of somebody much older and more responsible. He’s part tough guy, part teddy bear, and throughout most of the day, there is a smile on his face. He’s a midwestern type of boy who grew up playing football, respects his women, and if he ever trades in his teddy bear figure for hitting the gym, his looks will go from handsome to devastating in a hot minute.

One of his arms has no tattoos, while the other is covered with an arm piece that has lots of black roses. When I asked him about it once, he told me that his grandparents owned a flower shop, and his grandma would get these black roses…they weren’t really black he said…they were more like a very deep purple…and they were his favorite flower. Imagine a guy who is 6’5″ with a sweet smile and bright blue eyes telling you about his favorite flower.

Proceed to melt in the sweetest way possible.

One day some time after that, he was venting about his girl troubles.

He said he met this girl and she stayed the night at his house.

A couple of nights, actually. For whatever reason, she wasn’t having sex with him. BUT, he left the house early, bought her breakfast to take home to her, and then he went to the flower shop so he could have flowers on the table at breakfast.

He said “oh what do I buy? Yellow is for friendship…pink is for romance…red means love…well should I go with yellow? Oh fuck it, I’ll buy red.”

Picture a young guy pondering what color of roses to buy because he doesn’t want to send the wrong message to this girl.

Proceed  to melt in the sweetest way possible.  AGAIN.

The thing is, he’s not even old enough to know that the P.O.S. girl staying at his house didn’t even deserve that  kind of treatment. All you can do is hope that girls like her won’t leave guys like him jaded…and you hope that they will actually stay nice…and not have some bitch ruin him, so he goes through this jaded phase and ends up being an asshole to some girl who could actually love him.

I don’t think that phase would actually happen with him….well. I hope it won’t.


I don’t know if you could call it a crush, per se.

I have never ONCE fantasized about girly stuff like holding his hand, or making out, or some kind of secret friendship. NOPE. NOT ONCE.

I did ask him though a while back, what the policy was on staff hanging out with working girls.

He said that staff can hang out with other staff, and working girls can hang out with other girls…but staff cannot hang ot with girls. AND, if a staff member runs into a working girl outside of the ranch, say, at a club, the staff is supposed to find some other club to go to.

“Lets put it this way,” he said.

“If I even added you as my friend on facebook and management found out, I’d probably get fired.”

Cue sad music. Wahhh.

So, with all of that said…

I’ll get to the favorite part of my week now.

I work the night shift and its shitty. It’s grueling. I’m not supposed to sleep on my shift, but sometimes, it happens. I saw Mr. Teddyguard smoking a cigarette in the back. I felt like sitting in the chair next to his, which is separated by a small coffee table. I curled up in said chair and fell asleep.

He put his head on his hand and fell asleep too.

I didn’t tell him to wake up, he didn’t tell me to wake up either. I periodically opened my eyes to look over, and there he was, still sleeping…his converse shoes still to any kind of movement.

We both napped for like…an hour and a half.

He’s a good person to share space with.

That was the  favorite part of my week.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: