It was evident that Penny was capable of handling herself at an interview, and by the sounds of it, also behind a bar.
“We have security on site and use a transceiver system to get them to escort certain guests out whenever needed. However—”
Penny’s response made Charlie realise that she was spending as much time tending bar as she was doing her managerial duties. With any luck, adding new staff would mean she’d soon be far less pressed for time, but she would rather spread herself thin than hire someone incapable of doing the job.
That said, she wanted to make things clear from the get-go: “—I don’t want staff to confer with me or Tom every time someone needs to be cutoff unless the patron is being belligerent. Here we use an incident register to record details of anyone who has been cutoff, as well as any incidents involving violence or harassment, or requiring medical assistance. From what I understand, it is not compulsory to maintain an incident register in this country, but I insist staff use it in the event of inspection or police review. It is different from our in-house incident book, where staff accidents are logged.”
A thoughtful pause, fingers drumming on the tabletop twice.
“What’s the worse scenario you’ve had to deal with at work? How was it handled?”
Please Note — Charlie is an Allurist with Mortal Aura and Healthy Complexion
Her head nodded as Charlie spoke of her expectations of staff and protocols. It was obvious that the woman took her position seriously and had a sense of matter-of-fact about her. Penny liked that. A person in this type of business had to be able hold their own and with authority, something that Penny figured Charlie probably did in spades. She watched the woman closely, with an added sense of respect.
"The worst scenario?" She paused as she ran through the many memories of the past year, working at The District. "Oh, that's a good one. I have a good number I could choose from...the one that really stands out was when a drunk guy started grabbing glasses and bottles from around him and throwing them. I honestly worked on instinct and grabbed a nearby serving tray, used it as a shield and subdued the guy until the bouncers could take it from there. That's when I gained the reputation of 'don't **** with her'." Penny's eyes went round as she realized she had just dropped the F bomb.
"I'm so sorry..." Her nose and cheeks reddened with embarrassment.
Bartending was one of the few jobs that granted one an arsenal of tales to regale friends with. Charlie had had her fair share of misadventures over the years as a bartender, and a belligerent patron using glasses as darts made up a small—but memorable—percentage of said experiences. Serpentine had rarely served as stage to an unwanted scene since her employment; the countertop had yet to be christened with the blood of fighting drunkards (the parkour course was a different matter entirely), and she had both Jesse and Tom to thank for that.
“Sorreh fo’ wha’?”
Charlie waved her hand dismissively, not seeking an answer. She’d become the pot calling the kettle black if she were to act offended by a wee curse word. In fact, **** was perhaps the most frequented word in her vocabulary.
That being said, it made perfect sense (to her, anyway) to segue into the next topic.
“You mentioned something about a non-professional atmosphere, of a more personal nature?”
It was harder to paraphrase things when photographic memory supplied her with the exact phrase Penny had used in her e-mail.
Please Note — Charlie is an Allurist with Mortal Aura and Healthy Complexion
A small breath that Penny was holding, escaped. She nodded and smiled, while reaching back and rubbing at the tight bunch of muscles in the back of her neck. Penny had at first, felt a sense of release when she saw how quickly Charlie had dismissed her use of the less classy side of the english language, but that moment was short lived with the follow up of the next question. Of course she would ask that, Charlie had, after all, quoted her own words.
It wasn't so much that she was embarrassed about her past, but more about not being sure if her prospective new boss would agree with Penny feeling that her growing up as the personal bartender to her parents and their friends, as experience. How much should Penny divulge?
"Well." As she gathered more words, she shifted in her chair. "Although my parents didn't go to any AA meetings, they definitely qualified." She smiled and tugged on one of her braids. "Let's just say I can mix any cocktail you throw my way. Anyway a person can drink whiskey - yep, I can do it in my sleep. I also spent my teens outwitting inebriated adults that wanted to drive home from my parent's parties, along with a couple of unwanted advances."
There it was, all laid out there between the two women. Penny dropped her braid and leaned in just a little. "I also know when to talk and when not to. Not everything that is seen or heard is meant to be shared. I learned that early on in my life." Penny knew it was a risk to say such a thing, but with that bit about fetishes, she thought it was worth the risk.
Yet again, the tale was familiar.
Charlie noted—and privately participated in—the subtle besmirching.
Her gaze flitted to the braid being toiled, and her own hand reached to tuck a stray lock behind her ear. It was as much mirroring as it was a nervous reaction to the personal backstory replaying at the back of her head, this time narrated by Penny’s voice. An affinity for the other blossomed, it’s source to remain hidden. As disturbing as it was to hear about Penny’s upbringing, direr it would be to share her own.
Hand dropping from behind her ear, Charlie linked her long fingers atop the resume. It was too easy to play the role she’d cast herself in; her past no more than a smear beneath her multilayered costume, to remain unseen much like the faint scars beneath her clothes. Crystal shattered far smaller and sharper than glass; it left its mark.
“I see. Well,” the bartender unlinked her fingers, motioning downwards to the resume with open hands. Anxiety often brought out the excessive use of hand gestures. “If you’re available tomorrow evening, I’d like to throw you into the fray and see how you fare. The trial shift is eight hours, paid minimum wage. Closed shoes are required, preferably with sipes. Meals are offered, though the back of house determines when and what.”
Please Note — Charlie is an Allurist with Mortal Aura and Healthy Complexion
Penny took in a cleansing breath and exhaled with a smile. It had sounded as if Charlie had just hired her. She nodded as she listened, the glow on her skin didn't only accentuate her freckles, but it gave away the delight that she was feeling. The job wasn't something that she just needed, but what she wanted. She really enjoyed working at The District and after getting a good look at the Serpentine, she knew she would feel at home there. Yes, that was just what her homesick soul needed, a little bit of familiarity.
It was hard not to say yes when Charlie first asked if she was available, but somehow she held the words on her tongue just long enough to allow Charlie to finish what she had to say. "Oh yes." She blurted out. "I can definitely do that." The food part was a definite added bonus. She didn't have a kitchen to cook in and constantly eating out was expensive. She could almost hear a sigh coming from her bank account. "So what time in the evening and is there a dress code, besides the shoes?"
“Standard dress code: tasteful but not overly rigid,” she stated, taming her smile to an imperceptible, impish smirk. It would have been too easy to jokingly reply with a only shoes no clothes, but Penny knew too little of Serpentine or Charlie’s adolescent humour to justify it. In due time, if the newcomer revealed herself to be as flexible as the blonde believed she might be, there’d be no holding back. Until then, a modicum of decorum was paramount to forging a respectful, working relationship.
“There’s a lot of moving around as you know. Our cellars are downstairs, and floor sweeps extend to the parkour course and parlour. I’ll give you a tour tomorrow. Come in around seven.”
It wouldn’t do to start Penny off on a late - late shift. Seven to three was reasonable for a trial shift. Charlie tried to make the roster in such a way that everyone benefited from a normal bar shift, though it was inevitable for there to be at least one weekly nine to five closing shift.
Please Note — Charlie is an Allurist with Mortal Aura and Healthy Complexion
Penny nodded as Charlie spoke, it was actually an odd habit that she had picked up. She guessed maybe she did it to let the other person know that she was actively listening.
"Seven sounds great." Her lips spread into a smile. Sliding back out from the booth's bench, she moved to stand up and reached out her arm, once more, to shake Charlie's hand. "Thank you so much, Charlie. I will not let you down." She had every intention of keeping that promise and was up to the task. Besides, how much different could this bar be from The District, well apart from the obvious things like the tattoo shop and the Parkour.
"I will be here tomorrow at seven."
Realising that meant she was going to probably be working into the morning hours, she definitely was going to need a good night's sleep, if not - maybe she would need to do the opposite and stay up all night and sleep during the day. It wouldn't hurt to get herself back into the rhythm of working at night. The sooner the better.
Charlie shook the offered hand without sitting up. It may have been rude to do so, but she had little intention of walking Penny out, not when there were accounts to settle. Eyeing the makeshift pile, she withdrew her hand and smiled amicably.
“Aye, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she replied with finality. Any questions or issues could be brought up tomorrow during the trial shift, as it was intended. Still sporting a smile, she began to rearrange her paperwork and the cashbox, giving Penny one last look before returning her attention to the task she’d been immersed in before the young woman’s arrival.
Please Note — Charlie is an Allurist with Mortal Aura and Healthy Complexion
