spirits!

“Well, if I were to guess, it’s not just a freak incident that there’s sharks in the tornadoes. What if, it’s some kind of experiment?” Benjamin was talking to himself, as he sat with his laptop open, editing photographs he’d taken. He was currently refining one of the tornado he had taken a few days ago.

Would you move away from Perfection Valley if you had the option?

That’s the plan, darlin’. Once I make enough profit from the saloon, I plan on selling it and using the money to go back to Vegas - but if I’m being honest, nobody’s seemed interested enough in buying it off of me. Hopefully I’ll only be in Perfection for another year – maybe two, tops. ‘Course, I love the people I’ve met here, but it isn’t exactly the best spot for a city girl like me.

Are you afraid of sharks?

I wasn’t until they started being hurled at my saloon at fifty miles an hour. Matter of fact, I used to think sharks were pretty cool – and in the Vegas casinos, shark means a totally different thing than a fish that wants to eat you. Anyway, yeah, I guess you could say that now I’m not the biggest fans of the things. I definitely wouldn’t have any problem killing one if it was trying to hurt me.

Do you have plans to hunker down somewhere?

Well, the saloon’s got a pretty awesome cellar that I’ve been staying in. Got food, water, all the liquor you can drink. It’s safer than bein’ outside, but I can’t help but worry about the upper level. I hope this thing doesn’t get any worse, ‘cause if it tears down my saloon, I’m completely fucked.

What are your top three choices of weapons against the Sharks and why?

I’m not really a violent person, to be honest... I s’pose I’d want a shotgun for the sharks comin’ at me, but I’ve never used one. Never even been on a shooting range. It can’t be that hard, though, can it? Anyway, a shotgun is number one. Number two... a machete? Some kind of big knife. You always gotta have a big knife. And number three... Hmm, probably a chainsaw, just so I can look cool like Leatherface. They can call me Sharkface.

How many times are you out in public and have people come up and complain about or ask you questions about the weather?

               She’d thought the storm had passed. An entire night stuck in her cement cellar, panic stricken and worried out of her mind for the apartments above the saloon (and the saloon itself) had put Audrey in quite a sour mood, but when the tornado vanished and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, she couldn’t even describe her relief. To celebrate, she’d decided to close the saloon down for a day and make sure her employees are alright -- namely, Simon. The two had developed such a tight bond and she couldn’t imagine how horrified Hayley must have been, so she invited them to the saloon so they could set up blankets on the floor and play board games; anything to lighten the mood.

               That is, until the sirens sounded off once more and, much too soon for Audrey’s liking, the three shuffled their way into the cellar again. Now, the three sit in the middle of the large room, Audrey once again in quite a sour mood.

SIMON: you know? i cant even fault you on that but make sure to get some proper sleep in case this shit storm gets worse :/ 

SIMON: really??? man im not at all prepared for american whether i can tell you that the worst ive had to deal with is a heavy snowstorm and we still tend to brace through it one way or another…. it better blow by quickly

As Audrey approached from the back with a much-appreciated answer, Simon clapped his hands together as if to metaphorically bless her thoughts. “I swear you’re a mind reader or something, I was about to suggest the same thing”, he replied with a single shake of his head. It wasn’t as if either had something to hurry back to, as his babysitter was probably fast asleep at this point and Sundays weren’t the most booming of days. He could simply put Hayley in front of the TV and catch himself another hour of sleep, right? Definitely. Thus, his head had already banished any memory of the floor beneath his feet, moving away to the bar area which had already been tidied up by the bartender before their own departure. Simon quickly gestured at Audrey to follow his lead, wanting nothing but to sit down and rest his feet for a while. As much as he enjoyed his job, the constant running took a toll by the end of the day. 

“Another successful week? Or should we work harder starting Monday?” he teased. Simon already knew what his parents would think about his current choice of career, second-guessing why someone of their background would actively choose to work on the ground floor opposed to starting at the top. They should be the ones getting served anything they’d wish for on a gold platter, not the other way around. Thoughtfully speaking, Simon preferred this type of work in front of spending his days behind a desk, watching over other people or building his reputation within the business world. Getting to chat up guests, keeping them happy and to make sure they created enough revenue to pay the bills – what more did you need? At least he was good at it, unlike other tasks and jobs he had tried on. “We should try and plan something for us to do outside of work, this setting is getting old.” As much as he enjoyed living inside a small town, he had to admit it was lacking in the aspects of fun – especially for younger children. “It’s not good for you to only focus on work, at that.”

               Audrey reaches beneath the bar to retrieve her sales ledger from the day. She’s grateful for how busy it had been that night; it was the sole factor that pushed them over their goal for the week, meaning Audrey finally made a profit. Business has been rather slow lately, most people being too scared to even leave their own houses. Perfection Valley does that to a person -- it makes you weak, susceptible to all of the craziness and strange creatures that either want to kill, eat, or hurt you in some way. Audrey tells herself constantly that, some day, she’ll have made enough money from the saloon that she’ll be able to return to Las Vegas where she truly belongs, but she knows that likely isn’t the case. No, more than likely, she will die here, in Perfection Valley, having nothing to call her own but this damn Saloon.

               “Well, we beat our budget by a couple hundred dollars, but we’ve gotta work real hard next week to try to have successful nights every night. So far Friday and Saturday are the only profitable nights we’ve had.” She says, brows furrowing as she looks over the numbers from the evening. It almost doesn’t register that Simon had even said anything past his inquiry about the success of the week, but once it does, she looks at him with a sheepish grin. “Sorry. Sometimes it just gets so stressful, y’know? I mean, I don’t think I’ve had a day off in weeks. But you’re right, I shouldn’t be overworking myself. What did you have in mind?”

              “You sayin’ I don’t get an award for being your favorite customer ever?” Aiden steps through the doorway carefully; he may be worn from another long day of construction, but the last thing he wants to do is track dirt inside.

             “I just want a hot meal and a cold drink— the good stuff— but I know that ain’t a problem for you here,” he continues, every bit of his expression genuine. He can’t be any other way when The Olde Saloon is where he seeks refuge away from his work (and his father). Climbing onto the nearest stool, he straightens his shirt and rests his palms on his thighs. “How are you doing today, Ms. Wright?”

               A grin tugs at Audrey’s lips once she sees who it is walking through the door. Aiden is an extremely valued customer at the saloon -- she likes how polite he is, how genuine of a person he truly is. Not only does it make for a great customer experience, but it also helps Audrey feel a bit more comfortable around him. 

“Certainly can be- but seein’ lovely ladies and handsome gents being kept safe from… things, is certainly rewarding.” She grins, and winks to the bartending miss. “It certainly has more charm than I’ve seen in this town in a while.”

              Her lips curl into a coy smirk, deciding to turn and pour herself her own glass of water.  ❛   Well, the town can rest easy knowin’ that we’ve got such capable deputies looking after us.   ❜  She comments with another charming smile, though it soon falters slightly. ❛   You don’t think we’ve got anything else in store for us, do you? No more .. worms?   ❜

“I’m one of the Sheriff’s Deputies.” Gwen smiled, she’d learned to abandon her jacket during the warm hours of the day, leaving her shoulders bare to the sun, causing them to be pinkened from her time outside. “I can take a guess as to where you work.” She teased. 

               ❛   Oh! God, that must be a stressful job in this town.   ❜  An amused smile plays at Audrey’s lips as she leans over the bar, her feet aching from days and days of work. Her saloon is understaffed as it is, and in a town like Perfection Valley, liquor is a necessity for survival, so Audrey works every day. ❛   Yup, I own this old place. I think I’ve got it looking pretty spiffy.   ❜

@audreywright

Some would state that choosing a job that required late hours wasn’t the best of ideas when you had a child waiting for you back home, merely because of the lack of sleep you never properly regained – not even on your days off – but what could one do. If it wasn’t for the owner, he would perhaps try to have found a different one by now but getting to work alongside Audrey proved fruitful in many ways. Her patience, being one of those. Her personality, being a second. The pair had quickly moved past their boss and employee relationship, with Simon viewing Audrey as nothing but a friend at this point – who he happened to work for. 

He strategically placed the last chair on its assigned place onto of the table, eyes scanning the floor underneath to spot the evening’s damage. One lonely fry and a splat of someone’s drink. Not horrible, but also not great as spilled drinks meant more work beyond sweeping for remains. Simon turned around for a second, his ears trying to find any signs of Audrey in the back. Maybe they could afford a short break before powering through the last section of today. “How’s it going back there, do you need a hand with something?” he called out, hoping to gain her attention. 

               The past few months, strange as they could be in Perfection Valley, have gone by quite smoothly for Audrey. Business has been booming at the saloon, which is a welcome change compared to the slow trickling of customers she used to get. Truly, she has Simon to thank for that; she’s gone through dozens of waiters in the last nine years (all of which had ended up quitting and leaving Perfection Valley after a few months), but none quite as charming and kind as Simon. The two work incredibly well together, and with the pressure being taken off Audrey, she’s been able to work harder and improve the saloon.

               She seals the envelope with that evening’s deposit, then stores it in the safe that she keeps out back. They’d almost doubled their sales goal -- Saturday nights are the most profitable of the week, and there’d even been some stragglers who didn’t want to leave after close. Audrey can hardly keep the smile off her face. ❛   Nope! All good here.   ❜  She calls back before making her way out of the back room.   ❛   Why don’t you take a break before you do the floors? God knows I could use one.    ❜