When I got to the office, I noticed that Beth, the new girl who started a week ago, was still there. I remembered back to when Meredith was so friendly to me, even on my first night, and I felt a little guilty for blowing her off so far. The thing was, you never knew if they were going to make it past the weekend or even a single night. Like Sally, also known as Ms. Anger Management. And the Sobby Girl. I never did learn her name. This one, however, looked like she might stick around.

I walked confidently up to her and said, “Hi Beth! I know you’ve been here a bit, but I wanted to check in and see how things are going. I'm Pale. We met last week?”

“Yeah, Beth, obviously! No, it’s okay. I’m sure there are tons of girls coming through here. Things have been great, just great.”

We started exchanging background stories, and I found out she was from Britain on a work visa. She was only in San Francisco for about 6 months. It actually sounded like she’d been here a bit longer, but I couldn’t care less about immigration status, so I didn’t press the point. She’d been in sales before, but wanted something a bit more exciting. She’d rocketed up to the North run in her first week, and we talked about the finer points of our experiences.

I was certain she would do well ― accents usually did ― and certainly a British one tended to relax customers. Selene had encouraged me to try out different personas on the job, but I was too chicken to do it. I listened closely to Beth though, and while I was doing makeup I occasionally mouthed certain words quietly to myself.

Felix wandered over while we were each working on our hair and faces and announced, “You two are doing Rock, Paper, Scissors for the North run tonight. I will bear witness, because I think Pale will cheat.” He winked at me, and stood with his arms crossed.

“I will not! Besides, Beth might be the cheater.” I gave her a suspicious look, but she just laughed.

“Aren’t you two a riot! All right, what’s this all about?” she asked.

I explained that we had to play a game to win the right to work the best run of the night, and she instantly got a competitive look. “Oh, you are on, darling!”

We threw the first round, and I won. Then we threw the next round, Felix watchful, and Beth won. With our last throw, she had rock, and I had paper.

With a shout, Felix turned and told Thom “Put Pale on the board!”

Thom wrote my name under North run on the dry erase board, and I felt a strange burst of pride, though it really was a game of chance. Plus, any attention from Felix was good attention.

Beth looked slightly put out, but when she saw she was scheduled for the SoMa run, she cheered up a bit. Apparently she liked that run just as much, so that worked out well for both of us. Sometimes the girls in the office got competitive, and I didn’t like the bad blood, especially with new recruits.

To my delight, Felix was driving me out to Grant and Green. I asked him a bit more about his sisters, and soon enough he was babbling stories to me about growing up in Texas: getting in and out of trouble with his favorite sister Sam, getting pampered by old ladies, and even chasing storms as a child. I delighted in hearing him ramble. He was a wonderful storyteller, especially when the topic was his youth. I had overheard him a time or two with the guys, waving his hands in the air and toasting drinks while sharing outrageous things from the past. It seemed he had an endless supply of material to draw from, what with all those sisters.

Felix didn’t ask me any questions, but I was happy to focus on him while I gathered my thoughts on going out tonight. Something about the air felt off, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. I cracked my knuckles, stretched my neck and fidgeted with the items in the tray on my lap.

Just as we pulled up next to the Saloon, Felix stopped the car, and stopped talking.

“All right, what is it Miss Daisy? What’s going on in that pea-brain of yours?”

I shot him a dirty look.

“I don’t know. Something feels off tonight. It’s not me, I feel okay, I just mean… never mind.”

“You’ve got the willies?” he asked, curious.

“Yeah, I guess that’s what you’d call it.” It sounded feeble even to my ears.

“Listen to that voice, Pale. It’s your instincts. Guess you better be extra careful out there. And stay in touch if something happens,” he reminded me.

“Yeah. Okay… Thanks.”

I slid out of the car, and headed inside my first stop. As I was squeezing myself through the packed bar a guy in front of me shot me a dirty look, and turned away from me. I’ve learned by now that people giving off a really hostile vibe shouldn’t be approached, but as I went to move past him, someone bumped me from behind, sending me into Captain Hostility, and knocking beer out of his glass, which sloshed all over his hand.

He turned to me angrily, and as I started to apologize, he growled, “Forget it!” and poured the entire rest of his beer into my tray. I was shouting at him now, and the other patrons around me were so upset, they wrenched him away from me and dragged him to the bouncer at the door. When the bouncer heard what happened, he shoved the guy bodily from the bar. I set my tray on the bar and the bar back passed me several clean, wet towels and a shot of whiskey, which I drank in one gulp. I could see from my vantage point that over half the bar was involved with keeping the asshole out, since he was fighting and shouting to come back in. But the bouncer and the others weren’t having it after seeing how vicious he was.

I did my best to clean off the cigarettes, which were the most valuable. One of the packs was ruined, and the candy was a bit worse for wear but still sellable. One of the cigars was also wrecked, and this made me flat out angry. I had to pay for all this stuff! What an asshole!

I wasn’t sure how to get out of the bar; I was running behind now, and that jackass was at the only entrance. I gestured to the bouncer that I wanted to leave and he nodded back. I made my way back through the bar, and a path cleared out. At the entrance, they forced the guy back 10 feet so I could leave in peace. I flipped the jerk the bird, and the bar patrons clapped as I was leaving. I really appreciated the people who were helping me, but I was still angry and hurt that this had happened. Maybe this was what my weird vibe was about.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

I walked over to Kells, stomping and trying to shake off my mood. I was still trembling a bit as I wedged my way into the bar, but the crowd was unforgiving in letting me by. People around me were shouting in my ear at each other, shoving and scowling. I made my way downstairs, and got stopped by a rugby player who told me he’d buy a candy bar if he could feed it to me. His rugby buddies were watching to see how it was going to go. They were a bit rowdy, but I concentrated on the guy in front of me. His eyes were hard, but I wanted to turn around my night, so I decided to go ahead with a flirty exchange.

He carelessly tossed a fiver on my tray, and I tucked it in my cashbox. He unwrapped the candy bar slowly, and told me to open up. I opened my mouth and tried and give his hand a little flick with my tongue, but suddenly he was shoving the bar down my throat, hard. His buddies all laughed while I was pulling back, shaking my head, choking. They laughed uproariously as I wrenched the bar out of my mouth and smacked him as hard as I could on the arm. I was so upset at their callousness, I went running out of the bar, not even pausing to tell the bouncer what happened.

Back on the street, I was total mess. I couldn’t catch my breath, and I was angry. I didn’t know how to turn things around, and still had the rest of my night to finish. Impulsively, I called Felix.

“What’s wrong? Where are you?” Instantly Felix knew that something wasn’t right. He sounded authoritative, all trace of playful teasing gone.

“I’m in front of Kells. I think I’ll be okay, but I don’t know, this … thing just … happened. This guy just shoved … in my throat …” I managed to get some of the words out, but I was taking deep, raspy breaths.

Felix waited silently on the phone for me to compose myself, but the silence was so absolute. I could hear the menace rising, and I could practically feel him stalking, gathering the details he needed to make his attack.

“Tell me. Exactly. What. Who. Where,” he said, icing me frozen through the phone.

I stammered out a few details: rugby player, candy bar, feeling surrounded. The previous guy and the beer pouring. I insisted that I was feeling better after telling him what happened, and that I would be able to finish the rest of the run. Felix breathed loudly through his nose throughout my speech.

“All right. Tell you what. If you think you can finish, how about you tackle the next three places, and call me back. We’ll see how it goes. And if you see those guys out on the circuit, don’t go anywhere near them. I mean it,” he demanded.

“Well, duh! I don’t want those jerks near me,” I said, exasperated. I felt better now that he was back to just bossing me around, instead of that scary calm. I probably over-reacted by calling him, but it was too late now.

“What is your next stop?” he asked.

“Vesuvio, then Tosca, then Specs,” I told him, as I waited at the pedestrian crosswalk.

“Okay, be careful. Talk to you soon.” He hung up abruptly.

When the light changed for me to walk, I saw a guy directly across from me drop his pants to his ankles and hobble, penguin-style, across the crosswalk. As if that weren’t enough exposure of him through his paper-thin boxers, he then turned around, and penguin walked back across the street. The light had long since changed to red, but traffic was at a standstill and nobody was honking. People were hanging out their windows and laughing at his antics. His face remained serious the whole time.

“Tonight is CRAZY!” I said out loud to no one in particular. No way was I crossing with that guy; too much freaky stuff had happened already. I waited for the lights to change, and then struggled up the hill to Vesuvio.

The bar was crowded but friendly, and I ran into a few regulars. One girl came up to me and introduced herself as Maria. She bought a pack of smokes, and started to tell me the story of how she was a Tawny Tart for one night and got fired. She went on loudly to her friends that she couldn’t understand why she got fired for getting smashing drunk, yelling and pushing customers, ripping the costume, losing product, overcharging, giving stuff away, and--my personal favorite--peeing in the street. I expressed regret that I never got to work with her, but the sarcasm was lost on her.

I crossed the street and doubled back to Specs, where Ben the bartender lifted his shirt in greeting. This was a thing with him, I had learned, which was understandable, since he looked like Adonis, and had the abs to prove it. I made a few good sales, and even shared a shot with Ben, but I was still pretty shaken about the earlier events. It just seemed too volatile out here.

I moved on to Tosca, and it instantly made me feel better: the low lighting, the gentle murmur of conversation, the soft pop of champagne. I felt cloaked in a refinement bubble, away from the urgency and desperation of the rest of North Beach. I considered holing up in here for an hour, and blowing off the rest of the clubs.

The bartender acknowledged me with a head nod, and shot me a thumbs-up, a question in her eyes. I shook my head no, as I had had one drink recently. I would wait a bit before I had another.

I started my circuit around the room, but noticed something strange was happening. People were talking amongst themselves, but they were also craning around to look toward the back. They were distracted, interacting with me almost as an afterthought, casually tossing money at me. Twice I had to check and make sure that they meant to give me a $20 tip, which they didn’t realize they were doing, but were fine with when I pointed it out.

Shaking my head, I made my way to the back, housing large leather booths that could fit eight people easily. In the very darkest corner, I noticed a tall, imposing man standing next to the end booth. Definitely a bodyguard. A super hot bodyguard. I gave him a smile, and he looked me up and down, smiling slowly. I turned to look at the booth’s occupants, and my jaw fell open. It was the Mayor. The Mayor of San Francisco. Handsome, charismatic, witty, sharp, likeable, lovable, and terrifically powerful Mayor Flint Lucasey. I had heard rumors that he enjoyed hanging out here, but I never thought I would actually get to meet him.

Now I got why all eyes in the room were swiveled to the back.

“Miss, would you spare a moment to help me with my after-dinner breath? I desperately need some gum. I feel like I could slay a dragon, and I’m meeting someone here shortly. Of course, that’s the whole point of eating at the Stinking Onion!” He laughed merrily, and his entourage laughed along obligingly. I was grateful he gave me an opening, as I wasn’t sure how to break into the conversation, much less make it past that bodyguard.

“Sure thing, Mr. Mayor. Can I call you that?” I asked, giving him a smile but not moving any closer.

He laughed, and pointed at me. “Most people do call me that, but YOU can call me Flint, darling.” He laughed again at his own joke, but was watching me keenly.

I decided to play along, and said in return, “Sure thing, Flint Daa-hling.” He roared and slapped the table, jolting everyone’s drinks.

After he calmed down, I leaned into the table and slid partway into the booth, to give the Mayor a better view of the tray items. While he was deciding, I stole a glance at the bodyguard. He was watching me closely, and gave me another of his drinking-me-in looks. I turned back to the Mayor.

“Yes, these items please.” He had pulled out six packs of cigarettes, three cigars, all my gum, and four of my roses. For a moment, I was too stunned to count up the cost properly. He pulled out money, casually tossing a few fifty-dollar bills on my tray and waving me away, bored already. I was confused by this, and looked to the Mayor, but he was already in conversation with one of his female companions.

I felt a gentle tug from the bodyguard, and turned to look at him.

“He’s done now. I know he’s abrupt, but he’s getting ready for a big meeting. Thanks for making him laugh; he appreciates coming here just for that reason.” He paused briefly.

“Hey. You want to meet up sometime?” he asked, eyes intent on mine.

“I don’t even know your name?” I stammered, blushing under his gaze.

“I’m Michael. What’s your name?”

“Pale. Nice to meet you.”

He gave a deep chuckle, revealing very white teeth. He handed me a number on a piece of paper, and I tucked it away. He turned to the Mayor, and as I walked towards the front, I heard the Mayor call out “Pale’s the highlight of my night, everyone! Barkeep, give her a cocktail!”

The whole bar burst into applause, and I was grinning as I made my way hurriedly towards the front. Gods, tonight was just turning out to be surreal.

Even more freakish, Felix was waiting for me at the bar.