Pink Slip

Jimmmy’s shooting pool at 2:00 in the afternoon. The bar smells of beer. Jimmy smells of beer. He started drinking a couple hours ago. He smells of smoke. Between solo games he’s been smoking behind the bar with Caesar, the last of his cigarettes and some of Caesar’s weed. He and Caesar go back to middle school.

“I can’t believe I got the boot today.” Jimmy croaks on the exhale.

Caesar knows Jimmy well enough not to press for details. Caesar knows Jimmy well enough not to offer him the dishwasher job. Caesar would spend more time cleaning up after Jimmy than he does now filling in for the missing dishwasher. Caesar takes a deep toke so he can avoid making any comments.

“Dude, I didn’t deserve this.” Jimmy shakes his head in disbelief.

Caesar pockets the roach and heads back into the kitchen. He lets Jimmy walk through the kitchen to get back to his solo game. Jimmy stops, looking around.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

Caesar shoos him back into the bar with a dishtowel. Jimmy stops and fills up another glass with draft and goes back to his game.

Gene has come in. He’s racked up the half-finished game that Jimmy left, but nods to Jimmy to join him. Jimmy thinks Gene is a bit of an ass but playing pool with him is better than playing pool alone.

“How’s tricks?” Gene asks

Jimmy gives a shrug, shoots and breaks. He has no idea what his next move is going be. He’s never had a five-month plan, let alone a five-year plan.
Pink slip.

He holds his index finger to his temple and fires his finger gun.
He’s been fired.

He should ask Caesar for some food. He’d kinda got the munchies. Caesar only puts out the bar snacks for the paying customers. Gene doesn’t qualify.
He’d look at his watch, but he pawned it before he came to the bar. He rubs his wrist where his watch used to be. He needs to make his car payment. It’s a crappy secondhand car, but it’s almost paid off, and is usually reliable. There’s a box of his stuff on the back seat. It was waiting for him. The box. When he got called into her office. He didn’t even have a chance to pack up the box. It was just there. This wasn’t spur of the moment.

A few more games, a few more beers, another joint. Jimmy crushes his empty cigarette pack and shoots it toward the trash can at the end of the bar. He misses.

Gene has left. Chuck and Mickey have come in after work at the plant. Chuck nods his head toward Jimmy, who joins them at the bar. Jimmy listens to Chuck talk about his wife’s lumbago and Mickey says his daughter just got on the honor roll at the high school. They ask Jimmy what’s up.

“Got fired today.”

Chuck and Mickey know that Jimmy hasn’t held a job for years.

“Cheryl?”

Jimmy hangs his head. He’d thought she might be the one.

*****

At the lounge around the corner Cheryl, Ginny and Chantel laugh over a pitcher of sangria. Cheryl is celebrating.
“Nicely done. Cherl! A pink slip. Hope it takes!.”

— Lkai