The Freed Church Boy by Johnson Lloyd

Author:Johnson, Lloyd [Johnson, Lloyd]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Diamond Lake Publishing
Published: 2021-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

There's always construction… never-ending patches of disruption and inconvenience going on throughout the city. It's the same thing on I-35 W. Cranes and crushed concrete for miles. Past Diamond Lake Road, four lanes narrow down to two. And, as always, whenever there's any traffic impediment, people behave like first-time drivers, piddling along until the lanes open again on the 62 Crosstown.

Besides traffic woes, I divide my thoughts between Ma's parting words and how many callouts I can expect at work.

The moment I walk into the restaurant, there's no visible managerial presence. I stop by the office to hang my jacket, but the door is closed. I peek through the office window. Quish is talking to Sameer. Neither one of them looks happy. I lay my jacket on a prep table across from the hand sink. Someone has placed my shift setup on a nearby counter and crossed off seven employee names on it. Most of the seven are pains-in-the-ass who no doubt would've spent the entire shift trying to get sent home early anyway.

Seconds later, Sameer emerges from the office, red-faced. He breezes past me without speaking. I follow him to the fry station. “What's wrong?”

“I'm being transferred,” he says, angrily lowering a basket of fries into the oil vat and sets the timer.

I step out of the way of flying speckles of grease. “When and where?”

“Tomorrow. Hiawatha.”

“Yikes. Do you want to grab a beer after work?”

Sameer offers a weak smile. “You read my mind.”

*****

After our hectic shift, Sameer suggests Champps Sports Bar on West Seventh Street because it's close by. The place is packed. The Minnesota Vikings game is on every flat screen across the room, which explains why most of the patrons are wearing yellow and purple-colored jerseys and filled with an uproarious competitive spirit. Sameer and I follow the scent of fried bar food to a high table tucked away in a corner. There is a large flat-screen TV suspended above us, garnering much attention from those within our vicinity. Some people are staring at us. Looks vary from casual glances to typical drunk, tough-guy attempts to intimidate.

The server working our section is busy with a table of blonde twenty-something women, coquettishly twirling their hair. I glance at my watch. The ladies are cutting into my drinking time. Finally, my eyes connect with the server and I wave him over. Up close he's a cutie. Light-skin and light eyes. Possibly bi-racial. Lenny Kravitz-inspired Afro. He introduces himself as EJ and informs us of a two-for-one special going on until midnight. He advises us to order any food quickly because the kitchen is closing soon. We order two Jager shots and a couple of draft beers. Sameer adds an order of chicken nachos to split.

It's odd sitting in a bar with Sameer. He's hardly my first choice for a drinking buddy. The only other time we've interacted socially was at a holiday party held at Quish's house. Sameer brought his wife, Anaya, who, after five very potent eggnogs, told anyone who would listen that she couldn't wait to get pregnant.

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