Cave woman. That taunting nickname was born when I was a teenager because of my bar-hate. The tag and my bar inexperience have remained until now that I’m almost at my four-decade mark.
I hate the smell of beers and alcohols, most of all, smoke. I can’t stand noise equally. Beyond these, I’ve heard and watched obscene, brutal, unfortunate events that happened inside an almost light-less, always crowded bar.
But today might be my cave-woman name’s ending.
I just resigned from my 23rd job when I saw the blinking WANTED sign. Maybe waitressing in a bar is my real calling.
Word count: 100 words
©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo credit: Ted Strutz
In response to Friday Fictioneers prompt for 05 August 2016.
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly writing challenge hosted by the generous Fairy Blog-Mother Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction.