Wazzer is holding up the dark corner of a friend’s bar, sculling from a pint glass. Of water.  “I gotta drive tonight, and I wasn’t planning to,” she tells the friend, who is keeping the water coming. She’s going to be holding the bar up for another hour or so, at least, giving her plenty of time to rue her situation.

After learning, via  a passionate kiss on the lips, that her co-worker Rosie has a Justin Bieber haircut for a reason, Wazzer had put the girl in her place and fled, leaving Rosie leaking tears from her big blue eyes. Thinking about it, Wazzer swears again. What was it with her and lesbians? Why did the adorable hottie with a totally sweet crush on her have to be a co-worker that she supervised? Was it too soon to start looking for a new job?

“I thought you were at your sister’s tonight?” someone says, behind her shoulder.

Wazzer glares. “Wayland,” she grumbles. Then it clicks. “Wait. Are you the tattoed guy seeing my sister? ‘Cause there’s no other way you would have known that.”

Wayland steps back, eyeing her warily. After a moment’s strange silence he says, “Thought you’d have a pink fit when you found out.”

She shrugs. “My night is so perfect already. You’re not living there, are you?”

“I stay over once in a while. When I’m up there seeing my kid. IRD caught up with me for support, I wanna make sure the money’s spent on him.”

Curiosity gets the better of her. “Where ya’ stayin’ tonight?”

“Dunno. I’ll see who’s keen.” He eyes up a curvy girl, still fresh and expensive-looking this late in the evening.

The bartender puts a fresh pint of water in front of Wazzer. “Thanks, bro,” she says. Then she accidentally on purpose elbows the glass so it dumps cold water on Wayland’s crotch. “Oh, sorry, mate! Geez, that looks awful.”

Tags:   drama! · nightlife · wayland · wazzer2 Comments