"Okay, picture this. He's got the jar in one hand, high over his head, right? And he winds back, like he's gonna hurl the jar halfway to Chicago. But…" Cassie smiled. "…When he goes to throw it, it's gone."
"What's gone?" I asked. "The jar?"
"Yeah," she said. "So instead of throwing the jar, he's throwing nothing. And it totally messes up his momentum." She laughed. "He loses his balance, and takes a dirt-dive right there on the beach, in front of like fifty people."
I could almost picture it. "But what happened to the jar? Did he drop it behind him or something?"
"No. What happened was this guy – Joel, I mean – had come out of nowhere. And all ninja-like, he'd plucked the jar right out of Derek's hand." Cassie's eyes brightened. "And he did it so fast, and so quiet, that Derek didn't even notice until it was too late."
Knowing Joel, I could totally believe it.
Cassie was laughing again. "You should've seen it. Derek's stumbling around trying to catch his balance, and…" She paused. "…Did I mention he was drunk?"
I shook my head. "I don't think so."
"Oh yeah. He was. I could tell. But anyway, Angelina's laughing her face off, exceptnow,she's laughingatDerek, who totally 'loves' that. And a few feet away, there's Joel, just standing there – dripping wet, no shirt, by the way – holding the jar, all nonchalant-like."
An image of Joel, wet and half-naked, flashed in my brain. It was a nice image, with all kinds of details that I'd like to consider later on, preferably after returning home and turning off the lights.
Damn it. Focus, Melody.
I asked, "So, he'd just come in from swimming or something?"
"Apparently," Cassie said. "Hewaswearing black shorts, or maybe a swimsuit that looked like shorts." She waved away the question. "But that's not important. The thing is, Derek's royally ticked off. He gets up and lunges for the jar. Totally misses, by the way."
She paused, as if thinking. "You know what it reminded me of?"
"What?" I asked.
"A bull fight."
"Huh?"
"You know," she said. "Like a bull-fighting scene from a movie. Like there's Joel, the matador, cool as a cucumber, moving the jar just out of Derek's reach a split-second before Derek gets close enough to grab it."
At this, I had to laugh. "So, the tip jar is what? A shiny red cape?"
Cassie grinned. "Exactly!"
I could just picture it, too. "So, how many times did 'Derek the Bull' charge?"
"A lot," Cassie said. "And by now, everyone's laughing, even Spencer." Cassie was still grinning. "It was so awesome."
Itdidsound awesome, actually. The way it sounded, it wasn't so much a fight as a spectacle. I smiled with relief. "Sothatwas their fight?"
Cassie shook her head. "Sorry. There's more."
My smile faded. "Oh."
"So this goes on for who-knows-how long, and finally, Derek gets so mad, he hauls off and punches Joel right in the stomach."
I gasped, "Oh, my God."
"Yeah, but get this. Nothing happens."
"What do you mean, nothing happens?"
"I mean," she said, "that Joel just stands there, like he didn't even feel it."
