Blackout / Ro & Reed
Location: The Empty Glass Date: February 1st, 2017 Availability: @reedhan
It was about 9pm and the bar was as hopping as it always was, even for a Wednesday—ain’t nobody wanting to miss Miranda’s Coyote Ugly moments in them little shorts, nor the mouth she had on her yelling into the megaphone. There was still tension between Ro and her boss, ever since she showed up to her shift last Saturday and got told she didn’t work there. That was a fun conversation. After Ro had recited almost everything there was to know about this hell hole of a bar as well as the recipes to a few proprietary cocktails—and hiked up her shirt to expose her stomach—Miranda had waved dismissively and said, Well, guess we’ll need the help on a Saturday anyway, and walked away looking over the shoulder at Ro as if she’d grown two new heads. It was weird, the same kind of weird that meant Ro didn’t recognize half the regulars any more. It was weird as in wyrd—something was definitely messing with the universal web of existence. She just hadn’t sorted out what yet.
She had barely wiped down the bar and gotten to making some cocktail called the Witch’s Heart—that always made her laugh, made her think of Gullveig—made with apple vodka, grenadine, and topped with Viniq. Whatever floats boats, Ro thought with a shrug and gave the martini to the girl with the outstretched hand like an impatient maw. At least she tipped. That’s about when the power flickered; the storm outside must be getting bad. With a sigh, Ro exchanged a look with Miranda: they both knew they had to stay open. If the power went, it was probably too difficult to drive. Miranda went to go get flashlights, lanterns, and to place candles in strategic locations that wouldn’t burn the place down; Ro had to deal with the clientele. “Alright, listen up!” Ro said, using the megaphone into the darkness. “We haven’t closed during hurricanes and we aren’t gonna close for a blackout, so park your asses and get settled, we don’t know how long we’ll be here.”
She gestured to a stack of folded papers she just threw onto one end of the bar. “These are the delivery menus. If you get hungry, pray someone delivers. Meanwhile, we still aren’t serving water, so don’t ask. You want it bad, go outside and shove your tongue in a blizzard. Now—who wants 2-for-1 shots?” she finished, clicking off the megaphone and waiting to deal with the onslaught of people. Ro tucked her blonde hair behind her ears, anything that fell out of her braids, and focused on the crowd. This was gonna get messy. Bring it, she thought to herself, and fixed and half-cocked smile to her face.