Feeding booze

====CHAPTER 1 ====
Trolling

Eighteen and that was old enough, old enough to know she had enough. Now she walking around a bar carrying a bottle of tequila baiting customers to take a shot. They called it “Trolling”. She lured them in with her skin tight tank top, mini skirt, feathers in hair and tattoo: exciting fantasies, “maybe she was loose; she’s dirty; experienced.”
Outside the line in front of the bar was getting longer, music from inside blasted through the speakers and excited the waiting customers. Small cars and dirty busses raced back and forth on the main street of the bar. Across the street, past the hotels, the dark ocean rubbed against the sand, changing, re-forming the beach and the rocks that jutted out.
Inside the bar was dark, except for the strobe lights that flashed to the beat and the dots of color lights that spattered the ceiling. The bar faced the dance floor and the stage; around the dance floor were tables and in the back, outside was a deck that faced the lagoon, but the doors were kept closed to keep the chill out. The dance floor sat a few steps lower than the tables and the bar. There was no band tonight, just a DJ and a group of dancers on stage to keep up the energy. Every so often the one of the dancers would shout out something through the microphone and then hold the mic out for the crowd to cheer or repeat whatever he just said. The place was throbbing; the mass of people bumping against one another, the pounding, pulsating beat from the speakers agitated the walls and the wood floors, oscillated, rolled like the deck of a boat.

A group of men locked in on her and took the bait. Soon she was pouring booze down the throat of a large customer service rep from Indiana whose company sent him on this trip as a reward for his “outstanding customer service”. She pulled back his shaggy head back against her breast, reached around and poured the tequila into his mouth. She pushed him up, hard enough that he had to catch himself against support pole. His buddies cheered and she laughed. He turned around and wiped away the booze dripping down his chin and smiled.
"Yah" raising his arms up at his buddies, everyone cheered again. He then wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.
“What’s your name honey?” his breath smelled of booze and fish.
“Krissy, now let go of me.” She pushed his chest, but he didn’t budge.
“Oh no, cutie – not ‘til you give me another” and he leaned in more, she felt his beard prick her cheek and his wet lips and tongue kiss her neck.
“You got more for me, Krissy?” He whispered in her ear.
“Let me go and I’ll give you what you want.” she was calm and wasn’t laughing anymore. Because this happened every night, someone would get too close, she knew.
“OK.” He said and squeezed her arm as he let go of grip. He kept her pinned against the bar with his arms on either side of her. His stare was empty; his body rocked slowly like he was on a boat, if he let go of the bar he’d fall.
She tried to duck under him but he dropped his arm and gargled: “Oh no, sweetie. Stay right there pretty thing.” He nudged her back with his elbow.
Instead of pouring the bottle into his mouth she pulled off shot glass from the belt she was wearing and poured him a shot and said “Here”. She held up the shot and reached her other hand out waiting for the money.
He said: “Shot, I want the bottle.”
“No, this way.”, she said.
“Bitch” he thought. Then he spewed “Ah hell, what’s the difference – bottle, glass? It’s booze right.”
He looked down, fumbled in his pocket for money. His fat gut pressed against her exposed belly. Then pulled his fat hands out and stared at them; empty. “Shit”
He looked around to his buddies and gurgled “Hey you bastards, you got any pesos?”. When he turned to his buddies, she slipped by him and away from the bar so she was in front of him. He hadn’t noticed her slipping away, until he turned to give the money to her.
“What the f” he said. She tapped his shoulder and handed the shot to him. Most of the shot ended on his cheek and hair, she and his buddies laughed and cheered. She got the hell out there, went back to refill and then went trolling again.

Later that night, after the bar had closed and the drunks were gone, Krissy pulled on her sweater and grabbed her pack. She was high and a little drunk, she and Geri took a hit in the ladies room and drinking with the customers was encouraged, it sold more booze and kept them happy. She also depended on the booze now; two years of drinking every day and night, she needed it. Her feet hurt and her sandals stuck to the floor as she walked out.

During her first month after leaving home she felt sick; she missed home and even regretted her decision. She wanted to call home or her sister everyday, but she never did. Then the first “workers only” party happened and she didn’t have such a high tolerance then and Mitch, the manager, had his way with her that night. She wasn’t the first bar waitress Mitch hooked up with, but she was the youngest. They dated for a few months, he bought her things, listened to her talk about her sister and he even comforted her; but he was older and called her “pretty little thing” and “little cutie” and he cheated on her, often. In bed he was never gentle or caring; he was rough, shoving her, rolling her and he asked her to do things she didn’t want. But he kept pressing her and kept trying and in time she didn’t resist and they did them. And then they didn’t bother her anymore, she still didn’t enjoy them.
When she’d catch him cheating on her she’d always walk away “Go to hell” she’d say. But within a day or two she’d be back with him. Except for the last time, instead of walking away from him, she grabbed some drunken kid in the bar right in front Mitch, walked out with him and took him home with her. When she was done with him, she kicked the kid out and she went back to the bar to finish the night.
Mitch saw her as she was strapping on her shot glass belt, and he grabbed her arm. She spun around and he spit in her face. Then he said “How do you like that bitch.”
“Ah, you f-ing asshole; what the f?” she stepped away and wiped her face with a towel from her belt.
He came up to her, grabbed her arms and looked straight her, his eyes were wide and said, “You fucked me for the last time, little slut.”
She hollered, “Go f yourself; you GD freak”
He pushed her down with his hand on her face and said “Oh, and you’re fired; get the f out of here.”

The next morning when the owner, Rich, had heard what happened and he knocked on her door. He was a business man and knew that Krissy was good for business. She dropped a lot of liquor and made much more money; her figure, her face; she was young and experienced.
Krissy opened the door for him and took a seat on the couch and crossed her legs, Rich sat on a chair from the dining table in front of her.
“Look Krissy, I know what happened last night, Jenny told me, she saw the whole thing; with the spitting and then he pushed you down.” He looked around her and said “How is the head?”
“Alright.” It throbbed in the front and the back from where she it the wall. She was still waking up, slightly hung over.
Rich nodded and then said “Mitch is a dirt bag, but he’s a good manager and I can’t afford to let him go. Hell it took me two years of being in the hole before that bar turned a profit. And that didn’t happen until Mitch came on board.”
“So.” She said.
“So, here’s what I want to do. I don’t want to loose you. I care for you and I don’t know why. Your young, beautiful…I’ve always been curious about you, why you’re here and all. But that’s your business and I’ve got mine. And you are important to my business; except for the bar you are the biggest earner and I don’t want to lose that. And I sure as hell don’t want you working somewhere else. So I’m going to move Mitch to Sardiana’s in the bay, my other place, it needs to be shakin’ up a bit, and move in Rhiza to take Mitch’s spot. You like her right? She’s worked there long enough, she knows the job, hell she’s probably better than Mitch.”
Krissy said “You guarantee that asshole will never be around again”
“Yes, I promise” Rich said. He grabbed her hand and stood her up. Put his hands around her waste. She was looking down so he took one hand and pushed her chin up and smiled at her. She no longer trusted anyone, including this guy. He said, “Take a couple days off; hang out, do something alone for yourself. Clean up.”
She stood there and through the screen door watched him walk to his car and pull away. Then she got up and walked to the bathroom and poured water on her face. She held her hands on her face, it felt warm and dark. Then she dropped her hands and looked up. In the mirror she her face, her different face; gritty skin, dry lips, small wrinkles were stretching on the sides of her black eyes. “What the hell is that” she thought. She’d been her just under six months and everyday she was spinning farther away from herself, loosing control or yielding control to someone, something else – she felt possessed and defenseless. Defenseless against whatever owned her, so she acquiesced to it’s temptations, it was easier to not fight it.

Later that morning, carrying her beach bag, she walked across the main street, through an alley between two hotels. The smoke from the grills and smell of grease from lunch being prepared filled the alley. The hum and chatter of guests filling up on remnants of what now has to be cold breakfast, echoed in the alley. Then out of the alley she heard the beat of the stereo, warming up by the pool for another day of drinking, water aerobics, dance lessons…anything to keep the guest busy. Finally, she reached the beach that fell before the turquoise water; already hotel guests dotted the sand. She thought of the snakes sunning themselves on rocks in her back yard in Arizona. She found a bare spot, laid flat on her stomach and pulled the towel over her so her body was covered. She listened to the waves pouncing on and then rolling into the sand. The same over and over again, sand swirling, and then dropped off somewhere else. The rocks stood steadfast against the pounding waves but slowing they were changing too. Under her towel she slept.

When she slept she dreamt of home and her sister. The last day they saw each other, standing in their parent’s driveway, …

=== CHAPTER 2 ====
Trapped

It had been a year and half since she last saw Mitch and now the fall was complete. The fall was without pain and emotion. She’d fallen to the point that she really remember her family or her home anymore. She didn’t yearn for them; they were distant, rarely crossed her mind and if it did they were no more than one time acquaintances. She had become someone else, someone that didn’t have emotion or feeling; her temperament was even no matter how bad it got nor good it was, she was the same – except anger, she did feel anger. But the drugs and the sex and the partying every night dried her up completely. Always high or drunk or both, she lived in a different reality than everyone else; hers was manufactured in a bottle or even sometimes by some guy feeding her a line just to bang her. She never slept anymore, when her body had enough it just shut down and she’d crash. She hungered for the satisfaction of pleasing someone even if they never cared for her; she also didn’t have a fighting chance. The drugs and booze controlled her now and if they wanted it, they would get it; whatever it was. It was easier that way.

There was this one guy, Randy, that caused her to feel, for a moment, the innocence and goodness from the past. He was young, handsome, was nice to her, held her hand and seemed genuinely interested. He had a nice smile and was dressed in khaki shorts and a Tommy Bahama shirt. He seemed clean or pure or something to her and it pulled at her stomach; nervous. He’d graduated a semester early from college and his parent rewarded him with this trip. He and a couple of buddies got in last night but they were at the hotel, “still recovering from hurlin’ all day on the scuba trip” they took earlier that day. He sat at the bar all night watching her and when she came back for a refill, he’d smiling and they’d make small talk. At the end of the evening he stayed back and waited for. They talked through one drink and then he invited her back to his room for more; “free tequila, bourbon…bottles just hanging with a shot stopper” and he was sure his buddies out cold. When they got to the room he gently pushed in her in, shut the door and cut the lights on. His buddies, stood in the middle of the room with the arms crossed; they smiled at her, gave her a little wave. Randy walked around in front of her and grabbed her shoulders and said, “Now this can be fun, ok.” Then he clasped her cheeks with his hands and kissed her forehead and “Whump”, he screamed and jerked over. “Bitch!”
She turned, opened the door and ran out – they came after her. She hit the stairs and she made it to the first floor; she opened the door to the stairway and she felt the thick arm wrap around her waste and she pulled, it slipped to her ankles and then she fell. She screamed as loud as she could. She was being pulled back into the stairwell and when they got her in, one of kids grabbed her mouth. “Shut the f up.”
The stairwell door burst opened when they were halfway up the first flight. The night manager pointed the pistol at the kid holding Krissy an said “Put her down.”
The holding Krissy said, “Hombre, what the fuck are you doin’? You gonna shoot me?” Bang! The bullet hissed two inches past his ear. The kid paused for second, dropped Krissy and ran.

High on drugs and booze, wasted, nothing surprised her anymore, she was dry, like a machine – just doing what she’s asked. She shut down when she worked to hard an when she was mistreated, she resisted, caused a stir, but was soon back to doing what she was told. The morning was cool on her walk hom, it was the winter months and though the days were mostly warm, the nights were always cool. This was her favorite time of the day, walking home in the cool morning to sleep; her breath drifted from her mouth. The massive hotels that ran along the ocean were quiet except for an occasional hoot from a drunk. The breeze felt good and she closed her arms around her; she walked mostly straight. Her head wasn’t clear but she could sense the stillness of the night and the lagoon to her left just beyond the row of bushes. A few cars hurled down the main street to her right. A police car, with four policemen stuffed in it, no siren but lights twirling flashed his bights at her, she’d made this walk enough times and had been enough trouble to know the local cops. She unlocked the gate her apartment and stumbled up the flight of stairs. Once inside she dropped her pack and keys, stripped and crashed on the couch. Outside here sliding glass window that over looked the lagoon, the sky turned pink as the sun rose. Across the street the ocean pounded the sand and rock.

Krissy sat in front of the turquoise water, the shine from the sun caused her squint, even with her sunglasses on. She sat and watched the extortionate yachts pass out beyond the bay heading out, heading to another port, probably island hoping bouncing around the gulf for a couple of months. She watched them until she couldn’t see them anymore. She imagined what it must be like on those ships. The rooms, the carpet and furniture; probably real mahogany paneling; a cook, wait staff, nanny…who knows. Then she wandered what they did on those ships and what she would do. “I’d sit on a chair at the front of the boat and watch the land disappear over the horizon and when it was gone, I fall asleep with the wind in my hair.”

She felt hungry and plus her back was sore from sitting. She brushed off the sand and walked over to the market for tacos. She loved tacos and El Pico’s had the best tacos on the beach, she ordered two and a beer. Then she stretched her body straight, leaned back her head back and looked up through her shade. She thought, “it sure doesn’t look like rain – there is no way it can rain.” – As with every morning, she flipped on the new – CNN International - and there was a major snowstorm suffocating the east coast. But here the forecasters were calling for rain, starting sometime this evening and the lasting for days – this time of year it could rain for weeks. But not today, today was bright.
The waiter brought her beer but she didn’t move; he looked at her and thought maybe to let her know, but he didn’t. Instead he walked back into the kitchen. Her eyes were shut now and she was listening to the street and when the lights turned red and traffic stopped, she could hear the faint hush of the ocean. Then she heard someone say “Seniorita, seniorita…Krissy.” Her eyes popped open and her waiter smiled at her, nodded and pointed “your tacos eh cervasa”. She said “Thank you”, her voice was raspy, burnt. He walked back to the kitchen.
She pushed the lime down into bottle of beer and it fizzed; took a swig and licked her lips. The beer was cold and tasteless, the lime made her squinch; she always tasted the lime. She pinched a smoldering taco and pulled it off the paper plate and juice ran down her wrist; she licked it off and then took a bite.
She left the other taco and finished her beer. When the waiter came back she settled the bill, she always left a good tip, the waiter bowed and thanked her. She headed to the bar, it was pay day.

When she got to the bar it was quiet and the workers milled around talking to each other. Everyone looked tired. Rich stepped in from the bright outside with a purple shiny t-shirt, Panama hat, shorts and sandals. His gut pushed against his belt that was failing to keep it in.
“Hello” he jumped into the bar from the bright outside. “How’s everyone doing today?” No response and he continued, “We had a good month, especially for this time of year. You know this isn’t the best time, things drag a bit and the customers – well the customers are crap. But we’re up.” He was now walking down the steps to the center of the room. “Up 30% from this time last year and that is a good thing, isn’t it Rhiza?” looking for her.
“Yep” she replied from the back.
Rich then said “So congratulations! Congratulations to everyone!” He smiled and looked around the quiet room; the workers just nodded a bit and milled, waiting to be let go. Then he clapped his hands together and said, “Anyways because we’re up – tonight we’re closed!” then he said ”workers-only party tonight!” The workers woke up a bit. “‘Kaya’, will be playing tonight just for you.” That even drew cheers. “Great, now let’s get to business and of course, why you’re here.” He held up the envelops and called “Geri, come on down”.
Krissy sat in the back with a couple other workers, at the bar, sucking on a beer. Eventually Rich called out, “Krissy!” he looked around and said “I though I saw her…”
Pudge, the bartender, tapped on the bar in front of Krissy and said “You’re up”
She grabbed her envelop and before she turned away Rich said “Krissy, stick around, I need to talk to you – ok?”
“Alright” and she walked back to the bar.

When all envelops were handed out and the bar was empty, except for Pudge and Krissy, Rich walked over to Krissy. Pudge stepped up and he waved him off, “Nothing, thanks.”
He sat down next to her and took off his hat and said, “How are things?” He head was sweating and was the color of a beat. He was mostly round and solid, probably played fullback at one point. His gut seemed to hold him up as it rested against his thighs. She turned to him, she had her sunglasses on, she said “Fine.” looked back down; she wanted to get this over with.
“Krissy, you know I’ve never tried to interfere with you. It’s your life and I figure you’ve got to go through things yourself.; you know figure them out, it’s the best way. Shoot, my motto is ‘a mistake will make you great’.” Nothing, she didn’t respond, he doubted she was even listening now.
Then he said, “Do you remember that morning after Mitch? I remember it and I said I cared for you. And I did – I still do. But you’ve gone too far and that is why I want to talk to you.”
“Too far? I don’t know what the hell…I remember the a-hole Mitch” she said.
“Right, Mitch, but…shit.” He closed his eyes looking for he words and then “Krissy that’s the past, what I’m here is for right now.” Then he said “I don’t know – Krissy, I’m worried about you.” He looked at her, her eyes were still closed. “Krissy, you look horrible. You don’t look anything like the girl who stepped into the bar and stole the hearts, and wallets, of everyone who came in here.” She sucked a swig of beer and sat up.
“Fine, you want to fire me – I ain’t what I used to be? Fine, do it.”
“No. No.” then he looked down, into her eyes “this isn’t business; I’m here – I’m worred because you’re killing yourself, the drinking and the drugs and whatever else you’re caught up in. Another six months at the most and you’re dead, and I’m not going to let that happen.” They were facing each other, but neither spoke. She hung her head and sat with her hands crossed. He had his elbow on the bar, his back was hunched over.
He asked “Krissy how old are you? Do you remember?” Then he answered, “You’re twenty. Shit, you can’t even drink in the states! And look at you, you look 40 or 50. The wrinkles on your face; your bones look like bumps all over you body. Krissy you should be in school, going to classes, hanging with friends, going home for holidays – whatever, doing good, normal things. Growing up, going on dates, getting a degree finding a job or starting a family. This is the place, this bar, you should be here on vacation, not to live or die.”
She sat still, Rich wasn’t sure if she was catching anything he said; He just kept going though, “You’ve stuck out since the first day you came in, young, clean and now you don’t. You look old and…dirty. You fit in to this place and that ain’t right, you shouldn’t fit in here but you do, too well.” He shook his head.
Then he said, “Where are your parents? Do they know where you are?”
“None of you f-ing business.” She said.
He said, “I know, I know…but do call or write them? When was the last time you spoke to them?” Then he nodded of course, “They don’t know where you are - do they.”
Glasses clinged in the back as Pudge refilled the shelves. After a long pause he said “What the ‘f’, I convinced myself that whatever brought you here was your business and as long as you were good for mine that was all that mattered.” Then “Now things have changed 180 degrees, this isn’t business this is personal, and I’m not going to let you go any further, whatever I can do I will.”
He reached his hand out to hers and gently held it. “Krissy, I have access, I know people who can help and I want to hook you up with them. I don’t know who just yet, there’s a couple, but we’ll find the right one together. I’m going to stick with you no matter; I won’t leave you I promise. And when you decide it’s time to leave this place, then I’ll be happy – but I’ll follow you, I’ll know where you are always - making sure you never end up here again.”
She sat looking straight ahead holding the beer in her hand. Something pulled at her inside, but the burning, hunger, need, want - that took over her two years ago boiled and it was strong, smart, experienced. Then she took a swig, licked her lips and said “Look, I don’t know what you want, you want to screw me? What?”
“Krissy.”
She was calm and it burned inside her, “Rich needs some; wife or girlfriends or whatever you got, not putting out? You know it doesn’t cost you that much.”
He said, “Krissy, stop it.” He tried to grab her arm, but she slapped it away and said
“Watch it, a-hole. What, what the f are you doin’. Who is this ‘Nice’ Rich.?” She was stronger than him, she felt in complete control now.
“Shit you never stopped me from going out there on the floor pouring your booze. Plus, you f-ing don’t know me – don’t you ever bring up my family. We talk what, three times in two years and now you want to save me. From what?” She was wise and experienced.; too smart for him; what the f did he know.
He watched shake her head and then she said “I’ve got it pretty damn good you know. Apartment, job, beach…friends back home would kill for this.” She leaned back and took a drink. She had done good and look how much she did for herself, by herself.
“But who gives a f – Right Rich. Who gives a f? Who gives a f about my apartment, or my job, or where I am or what f I’m doing!” She was strong and calm and she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, “I do…I give a f about it. I’m the only one.” Then “And that makes me the boss, I’m the one who decides what I do and how I do it, no one else. Especially not some a-hole who pays me to be exactly the way he’s saying I need to stop being.” Then she said, “So what the f, Rich, my dear savior. What the f do you have? I’ll tell you…you’ve got nothing. You’ve got nothing I need, nothing I want.” She was smiled and then licked the bottle. Then she said, “So, Rich, I’m going now, I need to get ready for work. I’ll clean up, do some coke, drink some cervasas and be back in time to make you some money. Oh, and because I’m so ‘Horrible’ looking, I’ll spend extra time and makeup on my face tonight? OK?” She got up, leaned into his ear and whispered. “And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll let you f me.” She licked his ear, smiled and walked out.
Rich sat still, “What the f” he said to himself “What do I do?” and then her screamed to her “No!”, Rich stood up and went after her. She stopped and turned to him with her hand on her hip “Rich, you’re freaking me out!” He grabbed her, he hugged her and squeezed. Then calmly, as is someone else spoke she said “Get your hands off of me.” He squeezed tighter and she yelled “Get your f-ing hands off of me”. He held on. She yelled, “Pudge, Pudge, get this f off of me. He’s hurting me, help!.” Rich looked around behind him, “No Pudge, don’t come here, don’t come here…wait…” then “Whump” she kneed him, he held on but she slipped away and he fell. Pudge came running, but she was out the door by the time he reached Rich. Pudge kneeled down to help Rich up “You alright boss”. “Yeah, we’ve got to get her, Pudge; we got to stop her.” Pudge just said “OK boss.”

When she got home, she went straight to the bathroom where she hid her drugs. A year ago, she punched a hole in wall behind the sink cabinet to hide her drugs after a friend stole hers. She burned, the need was a live again and it flowed through her, need, need to be fed; to damn Rich and everyone else. She opened the cabinet, reached in and pulled out the drywall. Then she stuck her hand in the hole and pulled out small bags of white powder and pills. She poured powered from one of the bags on the toilet seat, chopped it and then snorted it. She sat there on the floor against the toilet, waiting for the drug to do it’s magic and to calm the burn. ‘Those f-ers” she thought “GD a-hole telling me I’m f’d; what the f about him? Ain’t he…” and then the thoughts dissipated from her and she was fine again and she sat alone until the need said “More, a drink would be nice”. So she went into the kitchen, pulled out the tequila and poured a shot, then another.