We Live Like Saints with Sin

“Why are there so many drunks in Vegas?” I ask my co-worker Les after quickly rattling off my tables order.

“To see hot chicks like you,” he says with a quick smile.

“I only dress like this to get more tips,” I say rolling my eyes.

“So you mean you don’t dress like a whore every day; what’s wrong with you?” he asks with a quick laugh before handing me my drinks.

“God I hate super busy nights,” I mutter as I watch someone else sit down in my section before quickly dropping off the drinks and approaching my new customer. “Hello, I’m Sophia… oh hey,” I say smiling once I notice its Thomas.

“Hey, how’s your tattoo doing?” he asks pointing towards my back.

“Ya know, in the gross scaly stage; it’s awesome. What can I get you?” I ask noticing someone snapping in my direction, something I can’t stand.

“Dark liquor of any kind,” he says with a smile.

“Ok be back with that… soon-ish,” I say with a genuine smile before plastering on a fake one walking over to the guy snapping. “Yes, sit how can I help you?” I ask with the fake smile firmly in place.

“Another long island, sometime today would be nice,” he says shoving his glass in my hands.

“Right away,” I say through a clenched jaw. “I need some kind of good dark liquor and a long island and I wouldn’t mind terribly if you accidently dropped the lemon,” I tell les quickly putting the orders into the computer.

“Oh no; someone has a favorite customer for the night,” Les says with a smile and slight laugh.

“The sooner I get the fuck out of here and away from assholes the better,” I whine grabbing my two drinks before walking over to my most annoying customer of the night. “Here you are sir I’m sorry for the wait,” I say with my fake smile still firmly in place as I set his drink down.

As I walk away from the table I feel a quick smack on my ass nearly making me drop Thomas’s drink and pushing me very close to my edge. “Here’s your drink I have no idea what it is sorry,” I explain nearly breaking the glass as I place it in front of Thomas.

“Bad night I take it?” he asks looking at me oddly.

“I fucking hate my job; only thirty more minutes of hell to go,” I say doing a small cheer gesture with my arms before walking away.

“So Sophia how are you doing today?” my manager asks me with an awkward smile as I walk up to the bar.

“Honestly; about to kill someone,” I say slamming my tray onto the bar.

“Perhaps you should head out soon,” he says with a nervous smile.

“It’s fine; the guy who’s annoying me the most is leaving now,” I say rubbing my hands down my face to pull them away seeing eyeliner and groaning.

“Come here,” Les says with a slight laugh before fixing my make up with a wet napkin.

“Why don’t you just go home, Laura is here early anyways,” my manager suggests patting me on the back.

“Thank you,” I say with a large smile grabbing my purse and nearly running out until I hear someone calling my name and turn around to see Thomas. “Sup?” I ask biting my lip not really feeling like talking after a ten hour shift.

“I’m heading out too and figured I could walk you to your car,” he says shrugging walking along side of me.

“Oh, thanks,” I say with a smile since, hopefully, I would be left alone on the way to my car with Thomas.

“See you around,” Thomas says with a smile as we reach my car.

“See ya and thanks for walking out with me,” I say with a smile before getting into my car and speeding off home.

“You got a package today,” Megan says greeting me at the door and scaring the shit out of me.

“Jesus Christ! You had to freak me the fuck out for that why?” I ask slipping out of my heels and rubbing my feet.

“Because when your package started moving it freaked me the fuck out,” Megan explains.

“Wait what? Did you just say moved?” I ask looking at her oddly.

“Yes, go look in the kitchen,” she says smiling.

“OK?” I ask more than say as I pass a crate and stop in my tracks when I see what she’s talking about. It’s a small blue pit puppy with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. “He’s mine right?” I ask like a small child on Christmas morning.

“Yep he’s from your dad here’s a note that came with him,” she explains handing me a small piece of paper that explained that my dad got him for me after hearing my last dog died.

“Does it say if he has a name anywhere?” I ask picking up the puppy and playing with it.

“He’s housetrained and his name is Zero, of course, I called your dad and he told me he’s good to go shots and all,” she says smiling.

“You’re so cute Zero,” I coo picking up the dog and playing with it for several hours before we both go to bed.