Hey, Look Me Over
Marissa gingerly played with her hair as she flirted with the Bartender – a jockish-looking man in his mid-twenties, had clearly peaked in high school and was relegated to being lackey to the head of his frat in college; it’s a very specific look. While Marissa drew his attention to her at one end of the bar, her friends helped themselves – and several other patrons – to free refills from the tap at the other end, one even mustering the foolhardy courage to nab a bottle of top-shelf liquor. This was not a youthful indiscretion, nor the act of a ring of criminals, it was an act of revenge with the hope for justice. The Bartender had been a customer of one of Marissa’s friends and after ringing up a staggering bill with his friends, accused her friend of stealing or losing the $220 he paid for the meal and convinced her boss to fire her for “either theft or gross incompetence.” So in turn, Marissa and her accomplices intended the same fate for him.