It was strange being within the three-sided square of wooden countertops. I would have laughed at the idea of working at this pub the last time I was here.Sure, let me just casually pick up other-worldly bartending to pass the time. But here I was, and it felt right.
The central work area was open, with spouted barrels resting on shelves below the countertops. Graysen had explained that these would be labeled clearly and make for easy orders to fill. Gazing at the words branding each keg, I found comfort knowing I could atleastmanage that. The back wall of the space held the cocktail station, with various liquors, mixers, syrups, and garnishes lining shelves backed by a large mirror. Glasses, mugs, and steins neatly occupied the platform just above thesteel prep table. At the station’s center was a deep sink, a low refrigerator, and a pit of ice.
I leaned onto the waist-high bartop and opened the notebook. The “guide” he had referenced was an expanded version of the menus strewn about the establishment, annotated with notes that were so clear it was almost patronizing. I was incredibly grateful, but couldn’t help thinking it was odd how everything was outlined so explicitly. Even what Graysen had described as common knowledge on Trebianna was summarized in simple terms. At this level of explanation, he might as well have defined “water” for me.
Patrons started shuffling in a couple of minutes before we were technically open. Theo came out to greet them and introduce me. It seemed the early attendees would be regulars. He knew their orders, asked about their family members by name, and followed up on pertinent life topics like moving and work. His attentive small talk bought me plenty of time to stumble through preparing their beverages. Only one order had been something novel to me, and Theo’s exhaustive guide fulfilled its role in getting me through without having to request assistance.
Each of the patrons expressed their thanks and began glugging away without breaking from conversation with Theo. I took it as a sign that the quality of my work was decent enough, at the very least not worth commenting on. This pattern continued into the next round of customers; Theo took the heat off me with his interpersonal ease while I grew more comfortable. I would occasionally catch him glancing in my direction through the corner of his eye to check in on me, and I nodded back in response. His method was doing wonders for establishing a comfortable pace. Before I knew it, the bar was buzzing with a full crowd, and my confidence was growing.
“Things are slowing down.” Theo stood by me and stared out at the full room. “I wouldn’t expect many newcomers until the late-night wave in a few hours.”
“Thanks for all your help, Theo.” I let out a relieved exhale that relaxed my shoulders. How had it been this easy? Despite some reasonable fatigue, I felt unscathed.
“Why are you thanking me? You’re the one who made all the drinks.” The deflection was undeserved; he’d been working overtime running interference on customers so I could focus.
Despite being fluent in banter, I didn’t think Theo seemed to relish in the non-stop conversations. Occasionally, I caught his expression falling weary before picking itself back up to face the next patron. These moments were exclusively visible from the cocktail station when his back was to the rest of the room. The smile would disappear, his eyes would tilt down at the edges, and his forehead would crease. If I blinked, I would miss it, but it was hard to ignore once I did see it.
“What should I do when it's slow?” I figured now was when I would go up to bat on small talk, but I’d prefer to pick up some busy work if given the choice.
“I need to finish up in the office, lots to catch up on from my trip. Can you manage things until close? Keep the place clean and I’m happy.” He stepped towards the door. “Come on back if you need anything.”
And with that, I was alone. Now that I was responsible for managing myselfandthe many drunken guests of the pub, I felt like a total imposter. I could only clean glasses and ask people if they were “doing okay” so many times before it was weird.
In another attempt to stay busy, I took notes on the more atypical orders, mumbling to myself absent-mindedly about ingredients. “A Kaleisco has Cabix liquor, shaken with ice,drizzle one ounce of Prisma, rim dipped in syrup and rolled in salt… no… bitter rock…no…” I chewed on the end of my pencil. Two people had ordered this and, although not on the menu, Theo had assured them it was “easy enough” to make and provided verbal instructions to me. In the rush, I had failed to commit those instructions to paper.
“It’s salt,” a voice said to my left.
I looked up from my list to a barstool in the far back corner. A Mercurian with seafoam green veins running along the trenches of his skin was seated there, leaning his chin into his palm. His light brown hair was cropped, and stubble to match covered a square jawbone. I hadn’t seen him come in, much less make his way to the very back.
“I’m sorry?” I wasn’t sure if I was asking him to repeat himself or apologizing for the indeterminate amount of time I had been ignoring him.
“A Kaleisco has Cabix liquor and Prisma, shaken with ice and rimmed with syrup and salt,” he clarified.
“Oh.” I quickly scribbled the answer into my notes. “Thanks. What can I get you?”
“Are you new?” He ignored my question and tossed a nut from one of the bowls on the counter into his mouth with a distant “crack”.
“Yeah.” I closed the notepad and tucked it in my pocket. “It’s my first day. Sorry if I didn’t catch you coming in.”
“No worries, I’m quiet,” he laughed. “I’ll take whatever you have on tap that’s convenient. Surprise me.”
I really didn’t know what was in most of the kegs, but I needed to go with it to blend in. After a moment’s consideration, I filled a stein with what had been the most popular choice of my shift and set it in front of him.
“Want to start a tab?”
“Not needed.” He set a handful of coins onto the table. I appreciated that he didn’t drop them as carelessly as so many others had. The currency in Trebianna could generate a startling “clang” with its density.
I thought that would be the end of our interaction, so it caught me off guard when the man began talking to me loudly over the surrounding chatter. “My name is Cassius. I’m new too. New in town, that is.” Hazel green eyes looked up at me from the rim of his glass as he took a swig.
“Welcome.” The welcome felt odd on my tongue since I hadn’t even been a resident for a full season, but my efforts to conform continued to guide me. “What brings you to the area?”
“They’re building a new school up the road. I figured I’d donate my time to the cause and try to talk my way into a teaching position. I’m not bad at math. I couldn’t teach adults or anything, but early education would be doable.”
It was my first experience having a customer begin telling me their story without prompting, and I was flattered. This was much better than the passing “hey [baby/sweet heart/cutie]” I was otherwise getting, if anything.
“A new school would be great,” I smiled. At least, I assumed as much based on what Graysen had told me about widespread limited access to education.
“Agreed.” He took another drink. “You a local?”
