Thursday

Jim was exhausted. He’d been “running on empty” most of the day. Some would say he was intermittent fasting. He knew he just wasn’t motivated enough to eat… so it was small sips of black coffee paced throughout the shift until his relief came in. An hour and a half left til then. The music was soft this afternoon. Mild crooners at a low volume. It was pleasant, but Jim was jittery.

He would have usually switched to decaf by now, but today was boring and his sleepless nights were collecting. The caffeine kept him bouncing, moving around, cleaning, organizing and ever anxious that someone, anyone, would walk in and interrupt his frantic train of thoughts.

The cafe was doing piss poor business. Jim felt bad, but his wage was low and he did his best to work alone during the slow season. Tips had been shit for the past month. Today was far too quiet and Jim’s thoughts were far too loud.

He disassembled a steam wand on the espresso machine and soaked it in a cleaning solution. Humming along with The Rat Pack, he wiped down his bar space and counters, preparing the shift from day to night service. When Alice and Rob arrived, Jim would take his customary walk around the neighborhood. Some time to clear his mind. Breathe some better air. Rinsing and reassembling the steam wand happened mechanically and Jim decided on a decaf espresso for shift change.

The coffee grinder dosed a measured 16 grams of finely ground decaffeinated medium roast from central america. Jim had a few ticks and habits that made for a quick and solid shot, but, at the end of the day, he was a decent barista working with a passable coffee and a well kept machine. The espresso shot came out a deep brown and turned to a blonde crema after 25 seconds. Tasted good too. Jim was content. He was still hungry and his chronic heart burn couldn’t handle another gut punch, so he chased to espresso with a splash of water. Something to ease the burn.

Alice arrived first, which was unfortunate. Rob needed to be clocked in before Jim could leave. Part time vs. full time. server vs. bartender. irresponsible vs. responsible. misogynism. you know what it is.

“Hi buddy.” Alice walked behind the bar as she tied her apron. Crouching down to collect the candles, she asked: “how was the day?”

Jim grabbed the lighter from under the register and handed it to Alice. “Oh, so slow it was almost scary, and i should probably eat something if you’re cool with me putting some food in right now.”

Alice looked at the collection of dirty mugs in the bus bin and frowned. “I’m gonna guess those are all yours.”

”I did have a few guests.”Jim responded. “I’d say half are mine.”

”Then, yes, absolutely.” Alice started to light the candles while Jim filled a tray and distributed them to the tables. “please eat something substantial before you take your lil’ walk.”

After the tables were set and the lights were dimmed, Jim rushed to the back office. There, for a brief instant, he devoured a lovingly prepared half of a club sandwich. Denise wouldn’t be working there for much longer, but she had a good run in the kitchen and knew how to throw a family meal together like no other. She found a better gig at a well established dive, and Jim was going to miss her, though they never really saw each other or talked too much. Sometimes front of house and back of house just exist like that. Sometimes it makes it easier. Expressing love and appreciation through shift meals and shift drinks… it goes a long way.

Jim wrapped up the other half of the turkey club and checked his cash. Paychecks came next thursday day and tips were low, but he discover he did have enough for what he needed.

When he stepped back on the floor, Rob was behind the bar, setting out his personal tools and frowning profusely.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Jim approached with cautious confidence, knowing that he had not left a mess. It could just be a grumpy day for the ol’ bar manager. Rob usually flew solo on thursdays, but business was just starting to pick up again and a new menu rolled out for the season. He begrudgingly accepted the help for a few hours.

”Oh! Good, I thought you had already gone. Ate something?” Jim couldn’ve taken that the wrong way if he wanted to, but he’d known Rob a long time. He was to the point, honest and kind of a dick. A good friend, too.

They shook hands, Alice was brewing tea in the corner. “Turkey club.” Jim said proudly. “Well, half. I’m good to go, yeah?” He gestured toward the door.

”Take as long as you need, please.” Rob meant it. He wanted time to set things the way he liked it and Alice was plenty experience at handling the floor. Jim was there as back up for both sides until they both got to eat something and Alice or he could be cut for the night.

The space looked like it had turned into a cozy little basement lounge, cause that’s exactly what it was. Jim weaved through the tables and made his way up the stares.

It wasn’t quite spring but the sun was still out and Jim needed the breeze. He walked against the wind most of the way to the dispensary. He was just hoping to grab a couple joints and maybe a pack of edibles if something was on special. He got his medical card a few years back and he’d been making the walk through the neighborhood on his break since they opened The Basement Bar, if he had the cash.

His state was voting to legalize recreational use, but they were still a year away and medical users had to pay fees and sign forms to even be elligible to purchase. Jim was a little curious about the industry as a whole, but he wanted to combine it with the food industry some way… Amsterdam is known for cannabis cafes, right? Seems easy enough…

Jim walked quickly and was at the dispensary before he knew it. He walked in and presented his idea at the window. The front desk person was hard to see behind the glass, but by the voice, Jim knew they’d helped him before and were good people.

Still over caffeinated, still catching his breath from the walk, still digesting that sandwich he scarfed down, he entered the sales floor and was greeted by multiple registers operated by some of the most attractive stoners you’ve ever seen. It was kind of unfair, but this spot was a little notorious for their hot employees. Jim was a little taken aback and his anxiety kicked in when a cute girl called him over and he said “How are you?” more than a few times.

“Dude, you’re fine,” She raised her hands and waved away the bad vibes. “You’re on break, right?”

”Yeah, I am.” Jim breathed easily for a instant. “Sorry, i’m catching my breath i guess. Could I get a 2 pack of Goji OG joints and those Uplifting peach flavored gummies that i saw on special?” Jim was off on sunday and planned on getting outside so he’d save the gummies until then. The joints… he needed them to last longer than they would.

”Of course!” The budtender hopped over to the pre rolled joint display and then grabbed a pack of gummies. The total was moderate highway robbery, but that’s what we pay for peace of mind. Jim was on his way and walked a few blocks before cracking open the joints and lighting one. This part wasn’t allowed. Oopsydoodles.

He zigzagged through the neighborhood, sipping away as the sativa leaning hybrid reinvigorated his mind and limbs. A subtle buzz crept along his spine and his thoughts quieted. He only took a few hits before letting it go out and gingerly putting it back in its case. He made his way closer to The Basement Bar, but made a quick stop at his car. It was around 50-something degrees so he left the gummies and the joint pack in his car. He walked up the street a little further, just to feel the breeze a little longer and get his steps in.

When Jim returned to the bar, a few guests had found their way in. Rob seemed to be comfortably entertaining the bar crowd while Alice was ringing in a tables order. Jim drifted back behind the bar and set to polishing glassware from the day shift. Whether it had been Alice or Rob, they didn’t have to do the dishes for Jim. They usually did leave them, but this week the team seemed a little more united than last.

Service was smooth and orderly. A thursday, to be sure. Medium sized dinner rush with a few stragglers who stuck around for the after dinner drinks crowd. By 9:00pm, Jim was exhausted again and hoping for reprieve. Rob had eaten and Alice had been pecking away at her meal for awhile. All that was keeping Jim beyond this point was that nagging feeling that he just didn’t want to go home yet. He and Rob had a shot or two as they cleaned up the last rounds and by 10:30 the lights were low and the drawer was closed.

Alice had gone upstairs somewhere in the mix, but Jim was sipping a Peroni and Rob was having a Guinness. “Any particular reason you’re still here?” Rob cut to the quick.

”Aside from the part were it was busy enough for three today, i feel like i hit my third wind i guess. I don’t really sleep until i’m beyond tired. You didn’t say anything so i assumed you appreciated the back up this time around. You usually kick me out before 9:00 and let Alice stay.”

”She’s a lot more pleasant to be around.”

”Look who's talking.” Jim smiled. He and Rob used to skateboard and go to shows when they were younger. It made things easy from the get go, Rob was the boss but Jim was a backbone. Sometimes one worked more than the other, but the effort was always there. Alice was a barback upstairs but fit right in with the downstairs kids.

When the music was off and the alarm was set, Jim dragged himself to his car. Close to 11:00 with the rest of his sandwich in his belly, he felt the throws of a fourth wind and stepped back into the night, pack of joints in hand.

He popped out the joint from earlier and did that illegal thing again. This time, he tried to think less about himself and more about his medication. Goji OG. A strain of cannabis that tends to uplift and motivate him while soothing his anxieties. that’s the sort of things he’ll need to say if he breaks into that industry… not just getting high. Not anymore, at least. Like, yeah, you’ll get there, but there’s more.

So he walked along the main road and past a few bars and restaurants. the lights were still bright but the road was empty. He took another drag of the joint and heard a shuffling around a corner. Rather than pursue the noise and continue his walk, Jim turned heel and hustled back to his car.

The drive home was filled with somber tunes about being lonely and angry and in love and death. The good stuff. Jim was in bed by midnight, hoping to get some rest.