Jo felt stupid. More than stupid she felt vulnerable. Once she was done with this she was going to go spend an hour slamming beers before she opened the bar and began work for the night. Armed with fliers and a staple gun, she walked up to the telephone poles outside the community center and began stapling her poorly printed papers advertising a quizzo tournament on Thursday of this week. If people even came in and ordered one drink it would be useful. Hopefully they would get a little tipsy and have enough fun that it could be something that continued at least long enough for her to start turning a serious profit. As people walked by she thrust extras into their hands. “Here. Come grab a drink. Show us how smart your are.” she said, trying to raise a smile before she dropped the stapler. “Ah, fuck me.” she grumbled. Jo bent and smiled briefly at the stranger who had knelt to grab it for her. “I got it. Thanks.” she said, stiffly only because of her anxiety. “Fan of beer and quizzes?” she asked, thrusting a flyer out towards the good samaritan.