I was sickeningly tired. Every year when the death circuit started the bar where he worked would fill up with disgusting guys cheering for death.
At least the pay was good, I reminded myself quietly. Good enough to get by.
I calmly made my way to the fifth table, where some guys were getting rowdy and started breaking bottles before the circuit started.
Several of our bartenders had suffered injuries and humiliations, even if the money was good, there were always rules to follow to keep the bar going.
"Everything ok?" I asked, they looked at me with some impatience, soon after they started guffawing.
"Why don't you get us a drink from heaven? The best thing for tonight."
"Of course, although first you have to pay for what you have consumed, you know, bar rules" I said knowing the answer.
The men's gaze met mine. A look that indicated repudiation and ignorance to me.
