Summer 2000 • Vol. XXII No. 3/4 Fiction |

These Things Happen

It was a typical Friday night at Kerrigan's, so busy the wait staff didn't get breaks from seven o'clock until closing. Every half hour, Carey slipped off to the bathroom to do a line of cocaine to keep going. Around midnight, she started hitting up the bartender for shots of vodka, which improved her attitude and didn't hurt service noticeably, since she had it down to an automated procedure. After the last patrons oozed out the door, Todd Kerrigan sprang for free drinks, as usual. Carey and Michelle, the other senior waitress, found an old disco tape and started dancing through cleanup, although five minutes into it Carey sat out to count her tips—$137.30. Not bad. But nothing to write home about either. By 4:00 A.M. the diehards kicked back with a bottle of champagne in the downstairs lounge. Jamie from the grill staff whipped up pancakes laced with liqueurs. Everyone called him "Crepe Suzette" and took turns paddling his ass with a cocktail tray. After that, Carey and Mich

Already have an account? Login

Join KR for even more to read.

Register for a free account to read five free pieces a month from our current issue and digital archive.
Register for Free and Read This Piece



Or become a subscriber today and get complete, immediate access to our digital archives at every subscription level.

Read More

Style

By Yvonne A. Jackson

It was a typical Friday night at Kerrigan's, so busy the wait staff didn't get breaks from seven o'clock until closing. Every half hour, Carey slipped off to the bathroom […]

Subscribe

Your free registration with Kenyon review incudes access to exclusive content, early access to program registration, and more.

Donate

With your support, we’ll continue 
to cultivate talent and publish extraordinary literature from diverse voices around the world.