Later, I'm over at the pool tables. One of the boys is trying to put a tip into my cleavage when Phillip walks in.
It's like I'm a deer caught in the headlights. I freeze.
Shit.
I feel like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Except in this case, I'm the slutty jar, who's letting everyone put their hands in her.
He gives me that look. That I am probably in trouble look, like you got caught by your dad seriously making out with your boyfriend on the couch after curfew kind of look. I feel like I'm in trouble.
But I haven't done anything wrong.
Have I?
No, I haven't. I'm just helping out a friend, delivering a few drinks.
Phillip doesn't come talk to me or come beat the boy's face in. He calmly sits next to Nick and eats a piece of pizza. I grab the tip out of the boy's hand and go back behind the bar.
"Bradley. Shit! Phillip just walked in, and that guy practically had his hand down my shirt."
"Yeah, I saw that," Bradley says.
"Who's Phillip?" Cutie One asks.
"Her fiancee," Bradley drawls.
"Oh, this is gonna be gooood," Number Two says.
"You're waiting tables. Helping me out. Tell him you were gonna slap the jerk, but you were afraid you'd get me in trouble."
"Philosophers are good liars, huh?"
"We just see all angles of the truth."
"We really should've done more talking."
He laughs, well, he and the cuties laugh, and they say, "Tell us another story."
I walk away and think that the way they're all huddled together, he does.
I go to Phillip.
I figure I'll stay in character, break the ice.
It's all just fun and games.
Plus, you can't get into trouble when it's just fun.
In theory.
"Hey, can I get you a drink?"
"Only if I get to tip you like that guy." He gets up, grabs me, and pulls me in close to his face. I thought he was gonna kiss me, but he says quietly in his deep mad voice, "You're very lucky I didn't go over and rip his hand off." Then he smiles and looks up and down my uniform. "You look damn sexy though. I suppose he couldn't help himself."
"You think I look sexy?"
"I do. So you stopped texting me."
"Oh, I knew there was something I was forgetting! But I couldn't cuz my phone got in an accident."
"Oh, really? An accident?"
"Nicky, show him my phone!" Nick holds up the baggie full of rice and my phone. "See, it's in rehab. Drying out." I laugh. Ha ha ha. I'm verrrryyy funny! I crack myself up! "Get it? Rehab? Drying out??"
"How many shots have you had?"
I run my hand through my hair, thinking. "Uh, I'm not sure. Three, fourish, five, maybe?"
"What are you drinking?"
I give him a taste.
"It's water," he says.
"Oh no, it's water mixed with this special vodka. High quality, top shelf stuff. That's why it's so smooth. You want one?"
"Naw, I think I'll go talk to Bradley. Looks like your pool boys need more drinks."
And then I come up with a brilliant name.
"Kicky Nicky!! Get it? Cuz you're a kicker? And kicky can also mean like fun. And you're always very fun, especially when you take me to the bar. Aren't we having fun?"
"How 'bout we see if you remember it tomorrow?" Nicky says.
"Oh, okay." I go wait on the pool table group while Phillip walks up to the bar.
I realize that Phillip didn't kiss me. That's really not like him. And now, he's sitting at the bar chatting with Bradley, who was just discussing my past sex life with the cuties.
Shit.
I think this calls for an intervention. No wait, I mean, an interruption. I don't know, whatever. I need them to stop their talking!
I walk up to Phillip and wrap my arm around his shoulder. "This is my fiancee."
"We already know that," the cuties reply in unison and give me eat shit grins.
Shit, is right.
Uh, what to say? What to say? Uh.
"Hey, Bradley, let Phillip try that special vodka and maybe one of those special shots too. You know, the one you haven't named yet."
"I just decided on a name, actually," Bradley says. "It's called
Sex on the Stairs
."
Phillip says, "That's a good name. I will
definitely
have one of those and a couple more pitchers."
The cuties are snorting with laughter.
I shut my eyes.
I'm freaking dying inside.
Bradley winks at me. "The special vodka is just for you."
"You'll have to text me the name of it, so I can get some. I like drinking vodka that's soooo smoothy woothy."
"Why don't you take these to the pool table group while I make you another one."
I go, come back, and tell Bradley, "They want another pitcher and two more glasses. Oh, and more Jaeger shots. I'm good at up-selling."
Phillip says to the cuties, "Why are you all wet? Was it raining earlier?"
They tell him about my dropping the pitchers. About it raining beer all down their heads. They make it sound like I was just a clumsy klutzy klutz.
I stand up for myself. "I only dropped them cuz I was startled when he smacked my ass!"
Phillip narrow his eyes at the cuties and stands up.
All six-foot-three-inches of prime Nebraska beefcake.
My god, that boy is hot.
I'm feeling a little warm myself. Shots make me kinda horny if I'm completely honest.
He says, "Don't do it again."
The cuties cower slightly. "No problem."
Phillip takes his Sex on the Stairs shot and the pitchers over to the booth.
"Seriously, Bradley?
Sex on the Stairs
!?!?!?! "
"Yeah, I just decided it was the perfect name. It'll catch on, and baby, you'll be famous, or infamous, something like that."
"I don't wanna be famous," I pout. "I think I'll just go get drunk with my friends."
"I'm pretty sure you're already there."
"Already where? No, I'm not there yet. I was just saying, I'm going to
go
get drunk with my friends."
"Never mind, but you can't. You're not off work yet. My waitress isn't here."
"I'm just pretending to work. I think you know that."
"Well then, you need to go in back and change, and I better help you. Make sure you get it all off."
"Uh, maybe I'll just keep working."
"Thought so."
I go eat another piece of pizza and pretend wait on Phillip's table.
Phillip gets back up, grabs me, and kisses me deeply.
"You're drunk," he says.
"Not really. Like maybe, sorta."
"And what the hell was Bradley talking about? Your burning bush? Do I even want to know?"
Shit! Why did Bradley have to tell him that? I cover my face with my hand. "Uh, not my, um, uh, I had a dream. I became a burning bush. Literally burst into flames. God was punishing me."
Phillip peeks through my fingers and moves my hand off my face. "For what?"
I make a sad face. Well, I try to. "Um, you."
"Me? What did I do?"
And okay, so I might be a little drunkish. Cuz I usually don't gush over a boy like this unless I'm drunk. "Made me fall hopelessly and irreversibly in love with you," I tell him sweetly.
"So why were you burning?"
"Cuz God thought my being in love with you was against his wishes, I think, and so he burnt me. I was being blasphemousious. Is that a word? No, wait. I was blasphemic. No, that's not it either. Nicky, what is that word?"
"Blasphemous."
I snap my fingers and point at him. "Yeah, that's it. That's what I was. Good job, Nicky."
Nick says, "Yeah, she turned into a," BAHAHAHAHA, "burning bush."
They all start laughing again.
Well, all of them but Phillip. I'm thinking God burning me because I'm in love with him is probably not very reassuring in regard to and concerning our future.
Really, I'm sorta having a hard time thinking exactly, but whatever.
Phillip turns around, grabs his shot. "I think I'm gonna need this." To the guys, he says, "Hey, did Bradley give you guys one of these shots? He says it's something new he came up with. I mean, I've heard of
Sex on the Beach
before, but never
Sex on the Stairs
."
Now the boys have the deer in the headlight look. They freeze and watch Phillip throw back the shot.
He says, "Damn, that was good."
"So we've heard," Nick says slyly and arches an eyebrow at me.
Shit.
Thankfully, Phillip changes the subject. "Okay, so back to God. I think you're having bad dreams because you're nervous about marrying me. Are you nervous about marrying me?"
"Uh, I don't think so. I'm doing great on the planning, and I've been having fun with it. We're planning THE BEST PARTY! Right?"
"Yeah, but it's more than a party, right?"
"Yes, and so that's why I came to the bar after the museum. To talk to Nicky. To see if I'm having like a premonition or something. I mean, you don't want me to burst into flames at our wedding. It would sorta ruin the event."
He chuckles. "Well yeah, it probably would put a damper on things."
"I'd watch out for lightening if I were you, Phillip. Oh hey, I gotta go work. The cuties are yelling for me."
"The cuties?"
"Oh yeah, Cutie One and Cutie Two. I don't know their names."
"Bradley seems to be awfully cool about this. Is he hitting on you?"
"I don't think so."
"JJ," he warns.
"Uh, no, well, I don't know. Nicky, has Bradley been hitting on me?"
"Definitely flirting. No, that's not right, he said if you wanted to hookup, he had no problem with that," Nick tells us.
"So, you know, not really," I say.
"I see."
"Why are you here anyway? It's a long drive just for beers."
The cuties wave their empty mugs and yell at me.
"Shit, hold that thought. I think they want me to do a shot with them."
"How many shots have you had again?"
"Uh, Nicky? We had two when we got here, right? I had a special one, and, uh, maybe a couple more mixed in there somewhere, but I mean I've been here for like hours, and I had rice in a baggie and some pizza. It's not like I'm drunk."
He looks at me. Gives me that glare. That tell me the truth glare. You know the one, the one that makes me spill my guts to him. Always.
"Fine, I might be tipsy. Maybe a little drunkish. I can feel it, but you know, I'm fine. Pretty much fine."
"I don't think you should do any more shots."
"Oh my gosh, Phillip, I'm earning tips here."
"If that guy puts another tip down your shirt, I'm pounding him. Just saying."
I go up to the cuties. "Jeeze, what? You have no patience."
"We're empty. Bradley said you have to wait on us. We think Bradley might be jealous."
"Bradley?"
"Hey, you wanted a job. Just making sure you do it. What did Phillip think of the shot?"
"He said it was really good."
Bradley winks at me. "Yeah, baby, it was."
"You should totally do it with the bartender again. He wants you," Cutie One says.
"You're just taking his side, so you can get free drinks. Can I get you a drink?"
"A couple shots for us and one for you too."
I turn and tell Bradley, "Three shots, please."
"You can't have any more shots."
I love how boys think they can tell me what I can and can't do.
"Why not?"
"You're working. I can't have you any drunker than you already are."
"What did you say to Phillip? Or what did he say to you?"
"Just guy talk."
"Guys don't talk, they threaten."
"No, he didn't really. He's cool. Unfortunately, I like the guy. I was just telling him about your special vodka."
"Oh, good. He can buy me some for home."
"I think he already has some at home."
The cuties giggle.
"What?" I ask the cuties.
"Nothing," they reply.
Bradley says, "So what did you decide? You coming home with me tonight?"
I start to feel sad. I feel like my fun single life is ending. It's like the end of an era. And I want the era to end. I want to marry Phillip, but I don't know if he should want to marry me. If he was smart, he wouldn't.