Joy plunked down on her sofa, her first official free day after losing her job at the bistro. The owners, Frank and Chuck, had a falling out
and Frank categorically fired all the baristas. Not one was left and the two now ran the joint on their own. Joy ran her shaky hand through
her short blonde hair unsure of what she’d do. Before she lost the job, she lived paycheck to paycheck, but she knew working there was
precarious due to the two men’s explosive relationship. Threats of losing the jobs always hung in the air, but for eighteen months, Joy
worked gaining good tips and keeping her life afloat and thus paying rent, utilities and buying food. Thankfully, before she lost her job,
she had made a trip to the superstore and stocked up on groceries, so that wouldn’t be an issue for a while. But it will if the lights and
gas are turned off from not being able to pay her bills. It was almost too much to think about now.
Joy pulled the beer from the refrigerator. Tonight, she was thirsty and tonight she’d drink the entire six-pack. She didn’t care. After
settling on a movie, she relaxed, her feet on the coffee table and popped the top on the cold brewski.
“Fucking job,” she said to the empty room as she chugged the first beer. After belching and pissing, she opened the second bottle and
literally cried while watching an action movie. She thought blood and guts and fights would help her to feel better but it didn’t.
By the time the movie ended, the six-pack box sat empty beside her on the sofa. “This is how alcoholics are made,” she chimed as she made
her way to the bathroom for the hundredth time. “Should have drank one and saved myself the bathroom trips. I can’t afford the damn water
I’m using to flush the toilet,” she cried.
Joy turned on her computer and tried to search bleary-eyed for job websites. “Fucking job. I have to find one,” she said, slurring her
words. “Fuck it, I’m too drunk. I’ll probably end up applying for something I’m not capable of doing.” The computer screen hurt her eyes,
anyway. She turned it off and sat back in the chair and cried her eyes out again. “What am I going to do?” Reaching for a tissue she blew
her nose and got up to take a shower. Stumbling into the bathroom she hoped she wouldn’t fall and hit her head. The room spun, and she
hiccupped. “You stupid idiot.” Fumbling with the faucet, she streamed hot steamy water over her body and made a pot of coffee afterwards,
hoping it would make her feel better.