I am working six days a week and eight shifts, now. This is a good thing. A very good thing.
What to do with Rouletta when I am working so much, however, was becoming not such a good thing.
“Just bring her in with you,” said one of the owners.
“You can put her in the office, take her out for a walk when things are slow. Hell, just put her crate in the back corner so she can see and hear you.”
“Try it a couple of times, see how it works out.”
I love my job. I am sure I love my bosses.
I really love having Rouletta as my barback.
She may be worthless at getting ice and stocking beer, but she is the queen at making my most withdrawn customers smile and my upbeat customers feel even more so.
Who would have thought?
If anyone had told me two years ago, when I left so much behind in D.C., “Eventually, you’ll be tending bar in the Keys and bringing a dog to work,” I would have asked them to share whatever they were smoking.
Sad times. Good times. Tough times. Happy times. Sometimes, they all come together to make for the best of times. These are all of them.