The Underclassman

The Sleepover

Rodgers had told his mother that he needed to be back on campus no later than January 2nd so he could make payments for tuition, room and board, and to purchase the textbooks needed for the winter mini-mester. He said it was up to her to make the choice to either book him an early flight back or wait to fly him on New Year's Eve or New Year's Day when the cost would be substantially higher. Not surprisingly his mother opted for the earlier flight which Mick was very thankful for because it was all he could do to endure the time that he was back home at his parents. Truth be told, Mick had buttoned-up all of his business at least a week before the finals, but he had used his mother's own frugality to his advantage, and that tickled him to no end.

Gil, his boss at The Dugout, was ecstatic when Mick informed him that he would be able to work on New Year's Eve in addition to the day prior. Mick was a good employee. He was never late, never brought any personal problems into work, and always busted his ass the entire time he was on the clock. Because of that, Gil was willing to work with Mick and be as flexible with his scheduling as was feasible.

One of the distributers was already dropping kegs next to the sidewalk hatchway when Mick reported to work on the day before New Year's Eve at 8:50 a.m. He knew it was going to be a long twelve hours as this was but the first of many deliveries that the bar would receive in preparation for the big night. Next came the liquor distributor, then boxes of frozen chicken wings and other appetizers, followed by a delivery of cups and napkins, and case after case of can beer. In between hauling the deliveries down the steps into the basement and properly storing them, Mick bagged up ice from the ice maker and stockpiled it in the walk-in freezer.

Even though it was Saturday, it was day before New Year's Eve, and no one was expecting it to be a terribly busy night. Those few who were scheduled to work the evening shift began to roll in around 3:30 p.m. and as the bartenders swapped out their drawers, Mick made sure to restock the beer and glassware, and to freshen up the ice wells behind the bar. "Get out of here," Gil told him before saying further, "I'll see you at four tomorrow and be sure to bring your A-game." "I don't have a B-game" replied Mick with a grin.

Mick immediately got his marching orders from Gil when he reported for work the next day. He was to be the primary bar-back and was charged with keeping the bar supplied with beer, liquor, glasses and ice, changing out the kicked kegs, and anything else the bartenders requested such as cutting up garnishes if need be. Gil told him to jump in when he could and help anyone wanting the drink special which was two-dollar silver bullet cans. Mick had figured as much due to the number of cases of Coors Light he had lugged down into the basement the day before.

I may need you to sit on the door for a bit to cover Knoll's breaks," Mick's boss informed him. "Keep your eyes open for me tonight and if you see any shit start to go down get someone's attention because we want to nip it in the bud," instructed Gil. "We need to watch each other's backs," he added further. Mick chuckled to himself thinking, "Knoll doesn't need any help."

Knoll, whose full name was Mark Knollman, was the doorman for The Dugout on the weekends. Just short of six-foot and just shy of four-hundred pounds, someone along the way had nicknamed him Knoll as he was the size of a small hill.

One Saturday afternoon some little asshole who looked like he had just walked off his daddy's yacht got pissed about his bar bill and after signing the credit card receipt, crumbled it and threw it at the barmaid Kelly hitting her in the face with it. She yelled out to Knoll and pointed at the prick and without question or explanation, Knoll came off his stool at the door and grabbed the kid by the throat before he could regret his actions. Knoll pinned the jerk up against the wall and the guy just seemed to disappear behind a mass of humanity. Asshole number two went running over to help his friend but Knoll just grabbed the second guy, put him in a headlock, and half assimilated that dipshit as well. Gil just sat at the end of the bar laughing, and after twenty seconds or so, walked over and tapped Knoll on the shoulder. After Kelly confirmed the two pricks tabs were square, they were escorted through the door none to gently. Mick thought it was one of the best things he had ever witnessed.

Midnight came and went with the expected fanfare but without any real problems, and half an hour into the new year the pub was still packed and rocking. Mick was dumping ice into one of the bins when a woman's arm sliced between two people sitting at the bar. "Can I get two Cosmo's please?" she requested, holding up two fingers.

Mick looked her up and recognized the woman as a somewhat regular customer. He smiled at her as she was quite attractive, but by the sound of her voice and the glazed look of her eyes it was a safe guess that she was adequately inebriated. How about an Uber instead?" he replied.

"What's in an Uber?" the woman asked. Mick told her, "You and your friend if you let me call one for you."

Mick could tell by the expression on the woman's face that at first she did not get it, but she began to smile as she figured it out, only to appear irritated when she fully comprehended what he had meant. "Sure, yeah," she replied, "right after this one last drink."

"I already told you," interjected Lonnie, one of bartenders, "you're eighty-sixed."

The woman pulled back from the bar in a snit and disappeared into the throng of revelers.

Lonnie told Mick, "Tap number three just kicked, can you go down and swap it out?"

"You got it," Mick replied.

"And please bring back some napkins and beer coasters," Lonnie asked further.

Mick shook his head acknowledging the bartender as he walked away headed for the stairs to the cellar.

Down in the walk-in cooler Mick changed the keg as requested and picked up the spent barrel to place it outside the walk-in with the rest of the rapidly growing collection of empties. When he exited the cooler he was startled by the sight of the woman who had tried to order the Cosmopolitans sitting on one of the many beer kegs. She had dark eyes and chin length bottle blond hair, and was wearing a suede jacket with fur trim, and skinny jeans with ankle boots.

"How did you get down here," Mick immediately asked her.

"Through the swingy thing," she said as she waved her hand side to side. He took that to mean the swinging door separating the bar from the kitchen. "And down the steps, same as you," she added.

The woman got up off the keg and moved in close to Mick. "My name is Athena," she told him.

"Nice to meet you," he replied, "I'm Thor, god of thunder."

The woman laughed and said, "You're funny, I like that."

"Why are you down here?" Mick inquired.

"Your bartender eighty-sixed me," she replied, "I'd rather be sixty-eighted." Confused, Mick asked her to, "Run that by me again."

"I thought maybe you'd service me seeing you wouldn't serve me," stated Athena as she took hold of his slider and unzipped his jeans.

"You can't be you serious?" Mick asked sounding skeptical.

"I made a New Year's resolution to have more fun," Athena told him while inserting her hand into his pants.

"Well I didn't make a resolution to get fired," he retorted as she rummaged for his dick.

Having located her prize, Athena squatted in front of him, being careful to not put her knees down on the grimy cellar floor. She liberated Mick's cock from his trousers only to recapture it immediately with her mouth. The sensation of her lips moving back and forth along his tubiform felt amazing and there was no way Mick could have avoided becoming rigid, even if he had wanted to. Athena seemed to have no difficulty downing more than half his length and the more he hardened, the more vigorously she worked his dick with her mouth and hand. It took no more than a minute before Mick was fully erect and when he was, Athena rose back up and said, "I think you're ready."

Gil was cool, but Mick knew he would not be cool with him shagging some chick in the basement, especially while on the clock and with everyone busting their hump because the bar was still packed. Mick had not been laid since the caper he and Sean had pulled with Gabrielle, and he hated having to let the voice of reason prevail, but he knew under the circumstance what the prudent choice was.

"If the owner catches us down here we will both be in trouble," asserted Mick.

"No one will catch us," she assured him, "I'll see to it that you don't last that long."

"What if I came into where you worked and propositioned you?" asked Mick, interjecting a sobering thought where sobriety was at the moment in short supply. Athena smiled at him but said nothing in return. She slowly backed away from him while unbuttoning her own fly in the process.

Mick watched as she shimmied and struggled to push her tight jeans down to her knees, a task obviously complicated by how plastered she was. Athena looked up and instructed him to, "Come over here and pound me with your hammer, Thor."

She then sat back on one of the empty barrels so she could take off her shoes and finish removing her pants completely. In her inebriated state however, Athena misjudged her distance from the steel cask and when she sat back, her tush slid off the edge and she fell to the floor. The woman flailed, trying to catch herself as she plunged to the ground. Mick darted towards Athena attempting to catch her, but he could not reach her before an unceremonious landing. The empty kegs easily toppled over, tumbling like bowling pins and creating a racket that reverberated off the cellar's brick walls. He gently took hold of Athena as one keg continued to roll across the floor.

"Are you okay?" Mick asked. By the expression on her face, she was both bewildered by her unexpected misadventure and embarrassed by it.

"I'm fine," Athena asserted, brushing his hands away while trying to struggle back onto her feet all on her own, a feat complicated by the fact that her tight jeans were bunched around her knees. She was a bit wobbly as she rose and Mick did his best to spot Athena while being respectful of her declaration.

He was certain that the commotion would draw the unwanted attention of someone from up above and as soon as she was upright, Mick scurried around righting the kegs and placing them back into their original position while she straightened herself up. By the time he had retrieved the last keg that had traveled halfway across the basement Athena was already heading up the stairs. Mick was relieved that he did not have to implore her to go back up the steps as he grabbed the napkins and coasters.

Back upstairs, Mick placed the items on the end of the bar but before he could again suggest calling for a free ride home for Athena, she had disappeared into the horde once more.

The crowd had thinned considerably by the time last call was made at 1:45 a.m. and only a few stragglers had to be ushered out the door at closing. By that time the entire staff was already hard at work cleaning up the bar and kitchen. Everywhere you looked there was a beer can or bottle, glass or piece of trash that needed policing and Gil was insistent that it all got collected in addition to all the trash cans being emptied, the beer tap drains being thoroughly cleaned and the floors mopped before anyone went home. The last thing Gil wanted to do was to come in later in the day to find fruit flies floating about.

While Lonnie counted his tip jar, Mick told him about his run-in with Athena down in the basement. Lonnie laughed at him and called him and idiot. "I don't care what Gil would have thought or said about it," remarked Lonnie, "I'd have laid her on top of the kegs and nailed her."

Just after 3:15 a.m., Gil was satisfied enough with the condition of the place that he thanked everyone and ordered them to go home. The frigid air did little to vivify the weary staff as they stepped out into the morning. "Come on," said Lonnie, "I have to go right by the school. I'll give you a lift so you don't have to walk."

"Thanks man, I really appreciate that," replied Mick.

For all of his hustle, each of the bartenders kicked Mick a healthy tip out of their take and he went home with several hundred extra dollars in his pocket which absolutely thrilled him.

After working back-to-back exhausting twelve hour shifts in the past two days, Mick slept until almost 2:00 p.m. on New Year's Day. He laid there slightly awake until the alarm went off and he begrudgingly began to exit from his hibernation. Mick was scheduled for New Year's Day starting at 4:00 p.m. and going tentatively until 1:00 a.m. There were several college bowl games being played throughout the day and even though there were not any local favorite football teams competing, the match-ups would still bring a healthy crowd into The Dugout. "I'm not even halfway there," Mick thought to himself.

After the New Year's Day shift he was also scheduled to work the next day on Friday, then Saturday before having off on Sunday to prepare for the start of the intermester on Monday. Mick was aware that after New Year's, business at The Dugout would slow down considerably and everyone's hours would be trimmed. After the Superbowl it would fall off drastically until the start of baseball season. That was, unless the Avalanche or Nuggets made the playoffs, both of which seemed unlikely this year. He was happy to grab all the hours he could while he could, except that he was not quite so happy about it at that exact moment.

Mick knew it would be fatal to tap the snooze bar so he literally pushed himself up off the mattress and once vertical, headed right for the shower. After a long stand under the running hot water unaccompanied, he got dressed and grabbed his car keys to head out. He had not driven to work the day prior knowing that parking would be a nightmare, but when he stepped outside into the cold air after his twelve-hour shift greatly fatigued, he immediately had regretted his decision even though it was only a fifteen-minute walk back to the dorm.

Mick didn't even bother with his coffee maker, electing instead to make a quick stop at a local coffee shop for a much-needed double espresso and artisanal sandwich before work. After a grueling nine-hour shift at the bar he was back in his bed once again. The process repeated itself on both Friday and Saturday... slowly rising, showering, getting coffee and working for nine hours each day.

Even though Sunday was supposed to be Mick's day to relax he still needed to do a few loads of laundry and make a trip to both the grocery and package store. He spent the rest of the day preparing for class, lying around watching football, and enjoying several rum and cokes. According to his Facebook feed, everyone he practically knew was off somewhere enjoying their break. Except for Christmas and New Year's, Abby had not even texted him that much. Bradley Hall was virtually deserted and to Mick's own surprise, he felt sort of lonely.

On Monday morning, Mick woke up feeling refreshed and ready to start the day and the short semester. For the next four weeks he would be in class from Monday through Friday from 8:30 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. Mick had worked it out with Gil that his shifts during this time would be Friday and Saturday 7:00 p.m. to close and Sunday from 11 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. Between work and school it was an arduous schedule, but Mick felt confident that he could handle it. When it was over, he would have put three more course credits behind him and some extra money into his savings account.

Mick had greatly enjoyed his economics class during high school and done very well in it. The course was the impetus that sent him down the road of saving and investing for his educational future. Taking a condensed semester on the subject would be an easy, routine ground ball, or so Mick believed. While the instructor went over the syllabus on the first morning and Mick perused the required reading he was taken aback, as it was immediately apparent that it was about to be a very rigorous four weeks.

Later that evening, Mick sat at his desk reading his textbook and reviewing his notes from day's lecture and the syllabus in more detail while his TV dinner heated in the microwave. He did not even really have much of an appetite and was more interested in getting through his studies and into bed as he was still lagging from his recent shifts at The Dugout. Two hours later, Mick could not stay awake any longer and decided to retire just before 10:00 p.m.

Tuesday brought much of the same that Monday had, as did Wednesday and Thursday. Mick was eating yet another frozen entrée that he had microwaved when his phone buzzed to life. It was Abby calling. "How's it going," she asked enthusiastically after he said hello. He pondered her question for a moment, wondering if he had made a wise decision to take a class during the break. Apparently by his Facebook feed and Instagram account, pretty much everyone he knew was either sitting on a beach, sitting in a hot tub or sitting in front of a fire at some ski resort, always with a drink in hand.

"Going well thanks, and how about you?" answered Mick.

"Having a blast," stated Abby before saying to him, "I hope you aren't too bored or working too hard." Before Mick could reply Abby continued, "Please tell me you aren't sitting in your room by yourself every night studying and eating frozen dinners."

Mick looked down at the evening's boxed offering sitting next to his open textbook. "I'm getting out," he prevaricated, "hitting the gym, that sort of thing."

"Good," she said before commencing to fill Mick in on every little detail of her break.

Mick was well acquainted with how Abby could rattle on, and he sat there patiently and quietly as she did. After about fifteen minutes, he was about to attempt to gently cut in and advise her of his need to return to his studying when Abby said to him, "Okay, why don't you talk for a while."

Mick talked to her for a few more minutes, filling her in about New Year's at The Dugout and his class before telling Abby that he needed to get back to the books. She made him promise to call her during the weekend when he could talk longer. Mick laughed at the irony of her request and told her he would do so before saying goodbye to his friend.

Over the weekend Mick worked his shifts, studied and called Abby as promised, although he really did not have much more to add to what he had told her or texted during the break already. By the following Thursday, he had his fill of TV dinners which was fortunate because he had run out them the day before, so he wandered over to the food court after class to find a decent meal. As he sat there eating, a familiar voice called out to him, "Hi Mick!"

It was Kimberly. Mick invited her to join him and the two began to converse about their holiday breaks and mini-mester classes. They both agreed it was weird being on campus with so few other students around. Kimberly admitted she was a bit lonely and bored, and again bemoaned how frigid her dorm room was. "I'm going to head back to my room and study for a while," said Mick before offering, "You can hang out with me if you want." His offer brought a huge smile to her face and she thanked him.

The two walked back to Bradley Hall and as they entered, Kimberly told him that she wanted to quickly change into her sweats and then she would be right down. Mick was already at his desk with his laptop up when she knocked on the door. Kimberly sat down on the love seat and began to do some reading, eventually deciding to make herself at home by laying down on the couch while she continued her studies.