A SHIFT AT A BAR AT THE FOLIES-BERGERE
I know what boys like I know what guys want I know what boys like I’ve got what boys like
Suzon sang absent-mindedly to herself as she wiped the maybe clean probably dirty bar in front of her. Why the fuck are we selling oranges now? She thought, while plucking one from the bowl. She pierced it with her fingernail, releasing a fine citrus mist into the air. God Henri is such a dick, oranges at a bar, how fucking pointless. She returned the orange to its bowl.
I know what boys like I know what guys want I see them looking I make them want me
Suzon was coming up to the end of her fourteen-hour shift. Her feet were fucking killing her, she reeked of stale beer, and she wasn’t sure if her period had started or if her pussy was just really sweaty. It had been a fairly blah shift, although she’d had some real shits through. Some guy claiming to be a famous author had called her a vendor of drink and love and had not once managed to lift his gaze to her face while ordering his fucking Aperol Spritz. She’d had to cut some dickhead off and they’d literally called her a commodity similar in shape and objective appearance to the bottle on the counter. Which like … makes no sense. Makes about as much sense as selling fucking oranges in a fucking bar.
I like to tease them they want to touch me I never let them
A man approached the bar, staggering slightly. She pretended she didn’t notice him for as long as she could possibly justify, then looked up from her wiping. Hihowsitgoingwhatareyouafter? She asked. How about your phone number? Suzon grimaced but managed not to roll her eyes. Geez love, take a joke. Two pints of IPA, and pour them properly, I’m not paying for half a pint of bloody head. She poured the pints and brought them to him. Good job sweetheart he said, putting his money down on the bar, right into a puddle of beer he’d just spilled.
I know what boys like I know what guys want
Jeanne had told her today that Édouard, one of the local barflies, had contracted syphillus. Well that’s just karma for his terrible tips Suzon had joked. Too far! Jeanne had screeched, swatting her, and then laughing soundlessly with her mouth so wide open Suzon could see her fillings. Suzon didn’t actively want Édouard to die, she just didn’t care if it happened; he was a handsy drunk and she wouldn’t mind not having to serve him anymore. Even though he would just be replaced with a different handsy drunk, in theory.
I know what boys like boys like boys like me
When the hell did I hear this song today? Suzon wondered, as she grabbed her shit from the staff room and charged for the door; militantly avoiding eye contact with all the people she’d just spent her day serving. See you tomorrow! she yelled over her shoulder, giving a sort of jolting wave salute back toward the bar. Yeah see you tomorrow babe! Jeanne called out. Back in the fray!