Sunday, September 14, 2014

Growing Up Sheltered: Part 2



Once when I was 19, I flashed an ALE officer and it saved several peoples jobs.

(Sorry Dad, stop reading now.)

Growing up in my bubble the working world was new to me, and I was fresh prey. I took that job at the bar, a place that defined my early twenties, and with it came a whole new cast of characters who started to color in all the grey that I grew up in. They drank black coffee, listened to classic rock, and had day jobs. They played in bands, and they were all older than me. My boss was twenty plus years my senior, and for the first time, I had another adult who treated me like I wasn't a kid. He listened to me. He trusted me. We drank, laughed, cut up, and to this day I'm still thankful that he was the one who introduced me as who I was to the world. I was allowed and encouraged to be authentically myself. I sank into that job, sitting there at the front door at first and fell into it softly and delicately like my baptism into adulthood. 

We went through several staffing changes that Fall, and then by the end of September we had a whole new scene of art and commerce that came barreling at us with enthusiasm. If you don't know anything about eastern North Carolina, a lot of iconic music either came from there or has traveled through. You would be amazed, especially at a lot of things that I saw. Some of my most treasured memories that I have about that time in my life was the live music that I got to see, and it was all free!

One night after already receiving one previous ticket for underage drinking, yet another underage girl got drunk off of PBR she snuck in with her. She eventually gave herself alcohol poisoning and passed out in our grungy women's bathroom. The girl who worked behind the bar found her, lying face down when she went to take a break. Fifteen minutes later, five cops came rushing down the street and pushed their way through the throng of people dancing, and swaying the night away. It was like watching a disaster movie take place.

I got another one of those looks when my boss came out of the bathroom towards me as I sat on a barstool in my half-open cubical by the front door. He ran a hand through his hair and then looked up with that same look, just like my Dad, that day he came home and was laid off. I suddenly felt; overwhelmed, sick, defeated. The first real job that I like, and I was about to lose it all on an account of some stupid girl who couldn't handle her liquor. Just a moment later, I looked up to see two older gentlemen trying to reach their hand into the booth where we kept the wristbands for the of-age drinkers and I almost sucker punched a 45- year-old, square in the jaw. I missed though and made contact with his upper arm. As he leaned over,  he showed me his badge. I pulled back like a wounded animal and he smiled at me. You know that one? The smile of a sly smile criminal whose about to rob a bank?

"We're here about the girl. Sorry. Guess you're new here."

I looked around the bar, stunned, and smiled right back at him. For the first time, the sheltered life was coming up useful! I knew that smile by heart. I practiced that smile in the quiet calm of my bedroom with the silhouette of my closet door, pretending to be Mae West in a black and white movie. Sheltered kids stay in on weekends and watch hours of old movies! I knew when to do it, and how to do it, and who to do it towards. I'm a pretty decent actress.

"The cops came already, she's being carried out the back."

He reached over for a wrist band again, but instead he brushed my hand that sat on top of my knee. All my senses perked up, and I laid back. When I noticed a head looking down at me over top ledge of the booth, my boss was almost cross-eyed with anger and he held up one finger, then nodded off towards the bathroom. He threw his middle finger up with his other hand at the officers, and scrunched up his face. I scratched my neck, trying not be seen, and slowly nodded once to indicate that I understood him. The officers looked back up and me and continued to stand there waiting, and looking around. I knew the bust was only moments away!

Since I didn't hang out around a lot of kids when I was one, and I knew enough about adults from what I had seen. I kind of managed to pull off the biggest heist of my life that night. That officer stared me down to an uncomfortable degree, and not like a piece of meat, like a Subway sandwich. I'm also not talking about the kind that you get in-store, I love those, but this was like I was a roast beef left over on a catering tray when he wanted turkey. His stupid wrinkled forehead, his awful navy polo, and his plastic smile were incredibly off-putting in the worst kind of way. It felt like he was undressing me with his eyes.

A few minutes later his buddy reappeared, and passed a pink slip to me across the counter. Was I getting a ticket? I couldn't make out the tiny writing in the dim light, but he leaned over to ask me a question. I should point out before we go any further, that the ALE are like mall cops but for bars. They only show up on weekends when it's busy to make sure no one under 21 is actually having any fun, and they give out pink and yellow slips to write at their leisure. Yellow slips are uncertain death, serious charges, but the pink one's usually just mean money must change hands. The cop reached into his pocket and started to pull out a yellow slip, and to my shock and horror he sat it on the counter.

"What's your name?"

I panicked.

"Am I getting arrested?"

Ouch. That came out a little too defensive! 

"No. No one's going to jail baby, but the bar is getting fined. My friend here just wants to know your name."

I sighed. Relieved.

"Caroline."

The cops had come back for a second round, except now there were only two officers instead of five, and now I was positive I was going to jail. They talked to the ALE officers and exchanged glances with me every once in awhile.

Was he going to ask me for a pen?

His roast beef masked as turkey buddy, turned and looked to me with some ill-informed look of reassurance. Was he seeing what I was seeing? I didn't know what else to do. I was already in my mind, in prison, on death row, and there was no way out! He patted his hand over top of the yellow slip, pacifying it, and reached for my hand. I cringed and fell back, as far as possible against the barstool letting the cool metal bars pierce through my thin sweater. I looked up again to see the eyes of God himself, my boss, from over top of the ledge except now the other ALE officer was staring down with him. I smiled at them life a flight attendant during a crash landing, and now it was my turn to play the charming criminal! They disappeared a few minutes later and Mr. Roast Beef put his badge up on the counter as he chatted with the lone officer.

The cop looked over at the badge out of boredom. Him and I had done this before, he came around to do safety checks if things ever got busy. He nodded and spun his wedding ring around his finger, gave me a passing wink, and then walked out the front door standing just outside the frame. He paced back and forth a few more times, and looked at me every once in awhile. Roast Beef put his sweaty, freckly arm on top of that yellow paper, and nodded at me. I took a deep breath, and then a light bulb went off.  I knew the movie 10 Things I Hate About You by heart and as I was thinking what prison food was going to be like, and all the things I would miss but then I had a moment of clarity. The detention scene!

"So Mr .... what was it?"

He babbled something common, and began intensely listening to my every syllable.

"I had this idea about, you know, handling this difficult predicament we've found ourselves in tonight."

He nodded. "Go on ..."

I crossed my legs and pulled down my mini skirt a little, sitting up straighter.

"We have excellent vodka here. In fact, no one can afford it on their Daddy's credit so top shelf just sits there all by it's lonesome."

"I can't drink on the job."

Mae West? Nope. Now we were about to go for full-on Marylin herself.

"Oh I didn't think so, but if you come back tonight I know a girl who can make a mean dirty martini."

I winked and bit my lip as I felt my anxiety start to flail in exasperation.

"I don't like martini's."

Back to the original plan.

"I think all of this underage drinking is about misdirection. You know? We just need to point them in the right direction. We need to get them to look at alternatives."

"How should we do that?" He smiled at me while looking confused at the same time, reaching into his pocket for a pen to begin filling out my fate.

I stood up, and shifted. Now we're in turkey territory! I tugged on the bottom of my sweater for a second, and he looked dead straight at me.

"Just like this ...."

I stood there with my boobs out for a good minute before pulling down my sweater again, and then grabbed my drawer filled with cash.

"I think I need a drink now ... so I'm going to go get one! Ok?"

He didn't move. He didn't blink. He was frozen.

I rushed into the safety of the walk-in freezer, and tossed back a mostly vodka with a drop of orange juice, a yeah I just did that - driver. I chugged the first mixed drink of my life and caught my breath,. When I returned to my post all that lay to rest was a crumpled yellow ticket, and my empty tip jar. The cops had long gone, and the ALE officers were shaking hands with my boss in the door frame. He had another crumpled pink ticket in his hand, and walked up to me at the ledge. I stared off into space because I couldn't look at him.

"Well, he said he'd give us a warning. Did you....?"

"I don't know."

"Well, what happened?"

"Dunno."

"Are you ok?"

"Yep."

He smirked. I looked at him, and blinked, flinching as I burst into laughter. I don't think he ever knew but that night was the official end of my innocence. It was the end of everything I had ever known, and although I was scared, for a minute I felt empowered. I saved my job that day. People have called me a lot of the things over the years, and I wear the labels like armor but no one can ever say that I'm not brave. No one will come to my funeral and talk about this, it was just a step in life and what I did it was never really a secret because I survived.

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