The Haunting of my Demons

Posted in Monthly at 9:37 am by Pasha

I was so sad that it happened this way. I felt like I let everyone down. I let myself down. I could only blame me.

It was still a puzzle why my boss would have me bartend and manage our second location on the same night. But it was a Monday and everyone thought it would be a sleepy, early evening.

Kara and Bobby were there. They usually keep it interesting. I don’t know when I started drinking, or what bottle of alcohol send me into a haze. I just know that when I left the kitchen and returned to the bar I was sloppy drunk.

Unbeknownst to me there was a second bartender, one of the cheerleader types from high school. And she must have reeled in the crowd, as the bar was three deep. There were people dancing on the bar top. The crowd swayed to the beat. I went behind the bar but could barely function to pour. Finally I slumped to the side of the bar and let another snide popular girl take over.

I don’t remember the rest of the night.

I think that I woke up at the restaurant. I went to the office where our the General Manager, Al, was and prayed that it had gone fairly smooth; that someone had cleaned up my inebriated mess. I looked on the desk where the drawer from the bar sat. The bills were crumpled; there was no separation between tips and the bank. Like my brain, it all muddled into a common river. I quickly asked to recount and Al obliged. He was impressed with last night’s numbers, with how busy we were. He did not mention my drunken state. I thought I had gotten away with it.

I fast forwarded to the evening. I was going for dinner at our second location with Paul, my bar manager and close friend, another girl and two of his buddies. I was so hung-over/still drunk that I left to pass out in another booth before I had a chance to eat. When I woke up everyone was gone. I ran to the car, where I stashed my book bag underneath, and was intent on hopping the train home and forgetting this whole mess. I hoped nobody else knew.

I sidestepped down a steep bank and saw the train at the bottom. As I waited for it to come it got dark out, pitch black dark. Several youths approached where I was, took a look around and lifted a small car. They were stealing it for sure. My danger switch flipped and I started running up the hill; they began running after me, screaming obscenities. I managed to get back into the restaurant, winded and crazy with fear. There was an unrecognizable white man with glasses mopping the floor. I begged for Paul.

I found him in the basement, writing the word “Mu Shoo Pork” on a straw and gold bedazzled sombrero. I tried to butt into his conversation to tell him what was happening outside the doors but he waved me off. He must have known about the night before. I melted to a sitting position along the wall, embarrassed and ashamed.

I woke up from my deep sleep, in my cozy bed with Lolli wedged underneath my stomach. It was early in the afternoon and my chest was heavy from the bizarre dream. It seems that demons that we would never let embrace us in our waking state find us there when we are vulnerable, warm and snuggly. Sometimes, they haunt me in my sleep.


Is It Really Over?

Posted in Monthly at 8:15 am by Pasha


Why does the radio only play love songs when you have a broken heart?

Posted in Monthly at 8:49 am by Pasha