Free Fall (Pyramid of Gold)

I had to trade shifts to make time for the concert. My boss wasn't pleased, just like he wasn't pleased with my frequent 'doctor's appointments'. He wasn't pleased with a lot of things in the world, and it was starting to bring me down. Maybe it was time to change jobs. I liked bartending, for its anonymity and for the money, too. But there were a lot of interesting things out there for a person not concerned with the future.

Time flowed slowly that day, and I counted minutes until the evening. Customers were few and far between, so I spent most of the time polishing glasses and yawning. The cocktail waitress, Nikki, was bored to death, too. She was in her thirties, attractive, and sported an assortment of artsy tattoos. We shared a lazy workplace friendship that was great for enduring these sorts of days.

'Hey, Nikki, - I asked after a while. - Do you think that I have a tortured look?'

She looked at me with skepticism:

'You a have a what now?'

'A tortured look. A friend of mine said that I'm tall, dark and handsome. And have a tortured look.'

She rolled her eyes.

'Your friend has an active imagination. No offense, sweetie, but you're the most boring-looking person I know.'

The source of this content ɪs ɴoᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt

'Hey, I'm not that boring'.

'Yes you are, Matthew'.

I sighed.