Second verse, same as the first. The beer was waiting for him, unopened, tucked in on the line on the steam table’s upper shelf. He used a knife to flip open the beer bottle and walked over to Marie so she could get some. He was ever conscious of Jim watching him. He could sense Jim kind of licking his lips, as it were, over that beer. While Marie sipped at it, he reached up the back of her dress and helped himself to some more of her. He was clueless as to why he did this. He hadn’t planned it, hadn’t desired it, hadn’t even thought about it other than to not do it. Yet here it was, here he was, just doing what he knew he should stay away from doing.
Marie didn’t stop him, didn’t let on to anyone who might have come into the kitchen and glimpsed their way that anything was happening. She stood close to her counter with the beer so Bill’s hand and arm were as hidden as could be. He could tell she was getting aroused; he knew she was cause he was. She inched close to him as she could get and whispered “Don’t stop.” But Bill had to stop. He had to do that second fryer and finish up his work. More important, they were in the kitchen.
So he went back to work. Marie told him, while he was down on his knees draining that second fryer, that she was going down to pee. This meant he should watch her station. But they were pretty much through with orders. Victoria had brought him another beer and told him no one else had come in. It was getting on toward eleven-thirty. Most likely they had seen all the business they would for the night.
He was still on his knees when Marie returned. She stopped by him and sipped from his beer, told him she’d stopped in the meat room and taken some more bourbon.
“I am so messed up,” she said. “Don’t know how I’m gonna drive home.”
She was standing over him, kind of, but not quite. As she admitted how messed up she was, she spread her legs for Bill to look up them. He saw she had taken off her panties and was showing him what she had.
“You like?”
“What should I say?”
“Say you like.”
“I like.”
“Gonna drive me home?”
“I’m not gonna let you drive if you’re too messed up.”
“I’m too messed up.”
“What about your car?”
“I’ll get a ride here tomorrow.”
“Maybe Tommy drop you off.”
“Get out of here. I ain’t riding with him.”
“Okay. But all I’m doing is dropping you off. I’m tired and I need to get some sleep tonight.”
“No problem.” Marie laughed.
“What you laughing at?”
“Just a crazy thought.”
Marie took another sip of the beer, put the bottle down and passed through to her station. Bill kept at draining that second fryer and when he was done, he did the same as with the first, got water and poured it through to clean it out. Then he wiped down the fryer with an already used kitchen towel.
After he’d double-checked everything, he lit that second fryer and watched the gas jets fire up. He wanted to make sure the grease was melted and was set for the morning before he went home.
Once he saw it starting to melt, he dragged the stock pot to the end of the line. There, he picked it up and carried it outside. Outside, he set it down by the grease drum. He took the metal cover from the drum and then very carefully hoisted the stock pot up so he could dump the hot oil into it. That done, he covered the drum and headed back inside with the last pot from him for Andy to wash.
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