Finding Isla

Chasing Streams

Isla

Why does Saturday feel like the one day of the week that feels like a Holiday every time it comes around, each week?

Monday through Friday were fine. Nothing special about those days. When I worked shifts during the week I mostly cleaned or stuffed my face full of french fries. But Saturday's?

Crowds of people would swarm the area like salmon chasing the current in spring. Some would walk the lengths of the streets just window shopping while others partake in useless pastimes of wasting hours drinking the nights away and swaying to the beat of the music blaring through loud speakers hung up high above glistening dance floors or screeching from live bands playing for a society tucked away in alleys darkest corners.

Good old Saturday.

Any other day the streets would lay silent waiting to be blessed by echos of pitter patter of foot-steps crossing its plains and the sound of rocks clinking on the pavement, loosened by stumbling heels but Saturdays?

People come tumbling into 'Deans' just trying to cling desperately onto something to numb their minds just to escape the clutches of everyday reality.

The last couple days have been spent evading Archie for as long as I possibly can, Successfully! But today feels different. Tonight Is the night us waitresses both dread and love.

Saturday.

I feel the walls caving in. Feel the time ticking away alerting me of my impending doom waiting for me right around the corner.

Archie.

Ive felt his eyes on me for most of the night. I don't blame him. He literally laid it all out there and I basically left him on read. I feel like the villain in a movie who missed the plot completely. I honestly came to Boston looking for Me. I Think Ive done a good enough job on putting the pieces back together and mending the whole carved out by Nick. Would I ever be ready though? Ready to date? To risk it all?

I shake his stare away and focus on my task at hand. Putting these drinks on my tray down, so I can disappear. I elegantly twists and turn through the dense, claustrophobic current of people packed to the brim in the club. The booth in question comes into view. A man and women are entangled together. Their hands have minds of their own as they run the lengths of each others seated bodies, tongues stuck down each others throat while a string of saliva drips between the both of them.

Ew.

They don't stop even when I put there glasses down. I Shrug it off and make my way back to the end of the bar where Eli is and the farthest place away from Archie.

I drop the tray down on the bar top and grab the glass of water placed down for me by Eli when I came back up here. Chug it half down. The coldness from the water is welcomed by my dry throat. It's been a long night of back and forth.

"Tough crowd?" Eli asks curious on why the long face.

I let out a resounding huff. "Something like that."

"You ready for a break?"

I nod my head vigorously. "Yes please." I clasp my hands together "Would like nothing more, Sir." I try and say in my best impressions of a British accent.

Eli giggles at my awful accent. I knew it wasn't great but I didn't think it was that bad?

"Will you drop this drink off to table twelve on your way out?" Eli places a Long Island Iced Tea down in front of me. Its pretty with a little red umbrella to finish the look.