Dante Harris was running. Running from an abusive past. Running from a messy break up. Running from the life he left in the small city of Round Rock Texas.
Somehow this small town boy has found himself in the busy streets of New York City, and in t...
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You know how I mentioned that this apartment wasn't anything special?
Yeah I may have overstated.
This apartment looked like numerous health code violations. I'm talking discolored carpet, chipped walls, an elevator that appeared to be just for show, and a lock on my door that had definitely busted open a few times.
It was safe to say I'd never felt so unsafe before.
Finally being able to physically see the place, left me in a sour mood before work. I hadn't even had time to plan what furniture to fill the home with. It looked as if my bed alone could be this studio apartment's full capacity.
Knowing I would be paying the same amount for this dump as I did for my one bedroom two bathroom apartment in Texas, was incredibly disheartening. But alas, I did my best to remain optimistic and hopeful as I spent the day cleaning out the space. The cleanup involved taking disinfectant to every surface, and ripping off the disgusting remnants of that filthy wallpaper. By the time night rolled around, I had already worn myself out.
Unfortunately it was time for me to head back into work.
The whole reason I had chosen this place was for the convenience of it. Luckily, my apartment was literal blocks down the street from the bar. I picked out my best black pants... which I couldn't really explain because it wasn't like I was heading to a fancy restaurant... then I settled on some dress shoes, and a button down black dress shirt. By the time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I realized I looked like I was heading to church.
"You can take the boy out the church, but I guess you can't take the church out the boy." I joked. This was exactly how my mother had dressed me on Sunday's for most of my life. It was definitely not bartending material... but I thought fuck it, it was too late to change now.
The walk to the bar was brisk. For a hole in the wall, you really couldn't miss the large ass sign that said "Tidal Wave" in bright illuminated letters. During the day this place looked dead, but at night? Holy fucking shit. I had to work hard at pushing my way through the congested line that had formed outside. I thought I would be completely swept back into the chilly streets of New York, but I felt a hand grab me at the last moment.
"Oh no ya don't" a girl called out over the noise, as she pulled me past the crowd and towards the back room. The first thing I noticed about her were the hot pink streaks in her hair. She was wearing a black tank top and tight black jeans that showed off her incredible figure. When my eyes had briefly caught hers, I couldn't miss the vibrant hazel orbs that matched her dark chocolate complexion perfectly. Once we had made it off the floor and in the "employees only" area, I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. "Sorry 'bout all that, sugar. Tuesdays can get crazy here. It's one dollar shots all night long."
