them, it’s bullshit.”
“You mean aside from the fact we have our
breaks sitting at a dining table and they take theirs on a milk crate in the
back alley?” I mused.
“That’s their choice,” said Chris.
Christ, he was easy to get a rise from.
“Relax, kemosabe. I don’t think that was
the topic of conversation.”
Chris scoffed. “Sure, there would be better
things to do than idle gossip,” he said, tearing his eyes away from the TV
screen.
“What’s this about gossip?” Adam appeared
in the bar, all showered, shaved and dressed in clean clothes. He looked
decidedly more alive than he did before. “What’s the G-O?” He slid onto a bar
stool, propping his elbows on the bar.
Chris was ready to dismiss the subject but
I instinctively blurted out the topic. “Kitchen gossip.”
“Ahh,” nodded Adam, “the juiciest in all
the land.”
“Really?” I pressed.
Chris merely sighed and looked bored.
“Really, never forget my days spent as a
dish pig in that very kitchen, you hear all the juicy stuff in there.”
“Somehow I don’t think Melba’s next
appointment with her foot doctor is exactly gripping stuff,” added Chris, who
moved to refill a drink for a thirsty customer.
Adam ignored him. “I bet you twenty bucks
they are not talking about foot bunions.”
“Oh yeah, how you going to prove that, stow
away in a dining trolley?” I said.
Chris popped the till, busying himself with
dividing the notes but listening on nonetheless.
“Oh, ye of little faith. Hey, Chris,
remember that time when we—”
“No!” Chris cut him off.
“Oh come on, it was—”
“NO.” Chris slammed the till shut and
glared at his little brother. “We’re not doing that.”
“Doing what?” I straightened, my eyes
darting between the two Henderson brothers.
Adam’s smile only broadened. Chris’s face
showed more disdain. Adam turned to me with a devilish twinkle in his eyes.
“This one summer Chris liked a girl who
worked in the kitchen.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Chris growled,
snatching some keys from the till and storming out of the bar.
Intrigued more than ever, I moved forward,
leaning my elbows on the bar and listening intently.
“Go on,” I urged.
“We wanted to know if this chick was
interested in Chris, but she was just a blow-in from another town and we had no
real way of knowing, so we went to some pretty crafty measures.”
“Are these the measures that you’re planning
on using now?”
Adam shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind reliving my
youth.”
“What’s the plan?”
Adam’s eyes lit with excitement as he
casually looked around to make sure no one was listening before leaning
forward. “There’s an intercom on the wall of the kitchen by the door; you press
it, or in this case, ‘accidentally knock it’. It will ring through to the bar
where an awaiting bar member will pick it up and have no choice but to hear
what ails the kitchen.”
I burst out laughing. “Holy shit, is that
what you did? And it worked?”
“Crystal clear.” Adam looked pleased with
himself as he leant back on his stool and folded his arms.
“And the girl? Did you find out what she
thought of Chris?”
Adam’s expression sobered. “Ah, yes, well
that didn’t have such a happy ending.”
“Oh?”
“Well, let’s just say, Chris might have
been in with more of a chance if his name was Christina, if you know what I
mean.”
“Bummer.”
We both nodded sombrely as we recognised
Chris’s loss.
Adam slapped the bar with a steely
determination. “Okay, I’m going in, wait by the phone … and cover the receiver,
we don’t want any sound filtering through.”
“Wait, what?” I straightened. “You’re
really going to do this?”
“Mate, we’re really going to do this.”
“Yeah, look I don’t know …”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, I swear you are
turning more into Chris each and every day.”
Okay, that got my attention. As much as I
liked and respected Chris,
“You mean aside from the fact we have our
breaks sitting at a dining table and they take theirs on a milk crate in the
back alley?” I mused.
“That’s their choice,” said Chris.
Christ, he was easy to get a rise from.
“Relax, kemosabe. I don’t think that was
the topic of conversation.”
Chris scoffed. “Sure, there would be better
things to do than idle gossip,” he said, tearing his eyes away from the TV
screen.
“What’s this about gossip?” Adam appeared
in the bar, all showered, shaved and dressed in clean clothes. He looked
decidedly more alive than he did before. “What’s the G-O?” He slid onto a bar
stool, propping his elbows on the bar.
Chris was ready to dismiss the subject but
I instinctively blurted out the topic. “Kitchen gossip.”
“Ahh,” nodded Adam, “the juiciest in all
the land.”
“Really?” I pressed.
Chris merely sighed and looked bored.
“Really, never forget my days spent as a
dish pig in that very kitchen, you hear all the juicy stuff in there.”
“Somehow I don’t think Melba’s next
appointment with her foot doctor is exactly gripping stuff,” added Chris, who
moved to refill a drink for a thirsty customer.
Adam ignored him. “I bet you twenty bucks
they are not talking about foot bunions.”
“Oh yeah, how you going to prove that, stow
away in a dining trolley?” I said.
Chris popped the till, busying himself with
dividing the notes but listening on nonetheless.
“Oh, ye of little faith. Hey, Chris,
remember that time when we—”
“No!” Chris cut him off.
“Oh come on, it was—”
“NO.” Chris slammed the till shut and
glared at his little brother. “We’re not doing that.”
“Doing what?” I straightened, my eyes
darting between the two Henderson brothers.
Adam’s smile only broadened. Chris’s face
showed more disdain. Adam turned to me with a devilish twinkle in his eyes.
“This one summer Chris liked a girl who
worked in the kitchen.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Chris growled,
snatching some keys from the till and storming out of the bar.
Intrigued more than ever, I moved forward,
leaning my elbows on the bar and listening intently.
“Go on,” I urged.
“We wanted to know if this chick was
interested in Chris, but she was just a blow-in from another town and we had no
real way of knowing, so we went to some pretty crafty measures.”
“Are these the measures that you’re planning
on using now?”
Adam shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind reliving my
youth.”
“What’s the plan?”
Adam’s eyes lit with excitement as he
casually looked around to make sure no one was listening before leaning
forward. “There’s an intercom on the wall of the kitchen by the door; you press
it, or in this case, ‘accidentally knock it’. It will ring through to the bar
where an awaiting bar member will pick it up and have no choice but to hear
what ails the kitchen.”
I burst out laughing. “Holy shit, is that
what you did? And it worked?”
“Crystal clear.” Adam looked pleased with
himself as he leant back on his stool and folded his arms.
“And the girl? Did you find out what she
thought of Chris?”
Adam’s expression sobered. “Ah, yes, well
that didn’t have such a happy ending.”
“Oh?”
“Well, let’s just say, Chris might have
been in with more of a chance if his name was Christina, if you know what I
mean.”
“Bummer.”
We both nodded sombrely as we recognised
Chris’s loss.
Adam slapped the bar with a steely
determination. “Okay, I’m going in, wait by the phone … and cover the receiver,
we don’t want any sound filtering through.”
“Wait, what?” I straightened. “You’re
really going to do this?”
“Mate, we’re really going to do this.”
“Yeah, look I don’t know …”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, I swear you are
turning more into Chris each and every day.”
Okay, that got my attention. As much as I
liked and respected Chris,
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