Roxy

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“Fuck you and the unicorn you rode in on!”

I came out of the cellar to see what the commotion was. Monday lunchtime, it was. I had just finished writing up the beer order for the brewery.

“Amber luv, go and change the barrel on the pale ale and see if Roxy’s alright. I heard her calling for you.”

“Ok, Mrs Zed.”

A man in a suit that looked more expensive than his face was standing in the middle of the pub. I know Amber has a few anger management issues, but it’s normally brought on by people making fun at her expense or drunks staring at her chest. Those t shirts from the brewery are always a bit on the snug side. I remember when she came for the interview in her pink hoodie and little rucksack with‘Amber heart Roxy’ scrawled in felt tip marker. I expected her to be pierced and tattooed in all sorts of unmentionable places, but she assured me she wasn't that sort of girl.

The man said, “I wish to complain about your bar staff, she's very rude.”

“What did she say to offend you?”

“She's very assertive when it comes to tipping.”

“Nothing wrong with a bit of assertion in a bar maid.” I tried to remember all the things from the ‘Barrel to Beer Tap’ customer service training. Maybe I should send Amber on the course.

“And then she said...”

“I heard what she said.”

“And how do you feel about your staff saying a thing like that to a paying customer?”

“A tight-fisted, non-tipping customer. How does your unicorn feel about you?”

“What unicorn?”  he asked.

“That you rode in on.” I said.

“I don't have a bloody unicorn!”

He was getting a bit uppity with himself, so I said, “Did you have a bad experience with unicorns as a child or have you got unicorn envy?”

“You're even ruder than your staff. You set a bad example.”

I’d had enough of him by then. “I haven't used the f word, but there's a d word with four letters too, and you ought to go through it right this minute.”

“I'll never set foot in this establishment again.” He said.

“Good,” I said, “No unicorn and no manners.”

You might think that I over reacted, or got a bit too defensive because really, I did hear Amber swearing. Good barmaids, I mean really good barmaids, are hard to find. I can trust her with the till and she pulls a decent pint. That humourless letch of a landlord down at ‘The Griffin’ has tried to poach her a few times. She’s a lovely girl; such kind eyes.

Amber’s a bright girl, don’t get me wrong, didn't go on to university after her A levels; or should I say her one A level in exotic animal care. She doesn’t have a fella, so no nuisance teenage boys hanging around making the pub look like a skateboard park. In fact, boys tend to give her a wide berth. Not exactly a man hater, just other things on her mind. Her whole world revolves around Roxy.

When she first asked if she could bring Roxy to work she was so polite and showed me some lovely pictures. I just had to say yes. I was a bit nervous obviously; about mess and smell and feeding. I mean, you don’t ask, you don’t want to show your ignorance.

She said, “Don’t worry Mrs Zed. She's house trained and very low maintenance.”

I don’t know if Roxy is pedigree or comes from one of those rescue shelters. It doesn’t matter to me. I’m not a snob. She’s a bit shy, and the law says ‘guide dogs only’ so I can’t let her into the saloon, but she likes to listen to people’s conversation.

Amber said, “The yard at the back will be fine. It's lovely and sheltered from the wind and Roxy will be able to hear all the chatter in the bar, she has very good hearing.”

I got some bales of straw off a farmer I know. Well it seemed right, like horses. Got some carrots and tins of meat, too. The Persian rug took me a bit by surprise. Roxy has very delicate feet and great taste in antiques, according to Amber.

They only live a few streets away, so Amber puts Roxy on the nice velvet lead I got her as a present. I saw it in the pet shop and just thought it would be perfect for Roxy. Before that she was on a piece of rope. Well, you can’t go walking the likes of Roxy about on a bit of rope. They get here through the alleys and snickets and then open the back gate, because you know how people round here would stare and gossip. When them at the end house won the lottery there were reporters and all kinds hanging around.

I was just about to phone the brewery when Amber came back in.

“Roxy ok, luv?” I asked.

“Just hungry Mrs Zed, I gave her another packet of brandy snaps.”

Now, you know and I know that brandy snaps are neither the cheapest nor the most readily available biscuits. Amber spends all of her tip money buying them. Very fussy eater is Roxy; only eats brandy snaps, except when it’s hot and she’s partial to a tin of pineapple chunks. Shame we haven’t had much of a summer yet.

“Did she hear me kicking him out for you?” I said proudly.

“Yes Mrs Zed, Roxy was very impressed.”

I thought him at ‘The Griffin’ wouldn't take care of you like I do. He would exploit you to line his own pockets.

“What did he say to you luv?”

“He was just really mean.”

“Did you hover by the tip jar with his change like I showed you?”

“Yes Mrs Zed, and pulled my shoulders back and adjusted the sign.”

Now, she's a lovely girl as I keep telling you, but graphic art is not really one of her skills.

“Maybe you need to redo that sign luv. Perhaps you should make the 'please help feed' a bit smaller, and then you would have more room for a nice big ‘unicorn’.”

“OK, Mrs Zed.”

I said, “Amber, luv, if the landlord of ‘The Griffin’ comes in, what do you have to tell him?”

She said, “That this is just our little joke and that unicorns don’t really exist.”

I said, “That’s right, luv. It’s for the best.”

She’s a trusting soul is Amber. I’ll look after her. She’s just what you want in a barmaid, a sweet nature and her very own pet unicorn.