Connect

By Rj Waltz

Rusty is as clueless in love as they come. He gets talked into getting a job as a bartender by his gay friend, Jim, who insists that the bar is the greatest place to work. His entire life changes on his first day on the job when he meets Angel, a twenty-something dating veteran. Taking pity on him, Angel takes Rusty under her wing and shows him the ways of dating the single women of their bustling metropolis, with hilarious results. Rusty develops his incredibly awkward social skills, collects souvenirs from the people he meets, and gains memories that last him a lifetime.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rj Waltz
• Release date: Feb 8, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310349478

Rj Waltz

"If you are reading this, you are checking me out. xD" That's a little line I saw scrawled across the back of my middle school crush's bell bottoms. We didn't work out, later on in life, but that's what life is all about. The journey. I am a big fan of the sentiment that, "There is no story not worth telling," which is, of course, from the PSP game Final Fantasy 7: Crisis Core. Of all places. As a result, I am a media sponge, so if it's got a good story, I want to check it out. If you'd like to share a story with me, I will love it and you, but make sure to let me know to keep it a secret if you'll die of embarrassment. Please.

Book preview

Connect

RJ Waltz

Copyright 2015 by Chad Horton

Smashwords Edition

Thank you to my friends and family, whether you are estranged or new, for your continued support in my crazy endeavors. Without you, this may have never been possible.

Prologue

The church looked like something out of a dream. The blue rose floral patterns were perfectly arranged. Everyone dressed immaculately. The decorations around the church were, for lack of a better word, perfect. Rusty scratched at his neck, annoyed from the tight noose of the bow tie he was forced to wear. He felt like he should be happy for his partner in crime on that day, but in truth his stomach had been doing flips for a while. Rusty ran his fingers through his hair as a way to calm himself down. The bridesmaids stared at him, giggling amongst themselves while typing away at their obnoxious cell phones. A man, whose identity Rusty never bothered to learn, approached him. Perhaps he was a part of the staff. Rusty didn’t pay him too much mind.

Sir, the Bride would like to have a word with you, the man said pretentiously.

Rusty looked up, Huh, what? Sorry, did you say something?

Sir, the man said again, exasperated, The Bride would like to have a word with you. You are Rusty, friend of the Bride, correct?

Rusty nodded, Um, yeah. That’s me. Lead on, I guess. He could’ve sworn that the stuffy guy rolled his eyes as he led Rusty towards the back room.

Rusty cleared his throat, So, uh, is being a little stuffy part of the job description? You’re totally nailing it, by the way.

The man scoffed, Goodie, there are two of you.

Rusty smirked, Yeah, me and Angel can be quite the handful. But the guy you should really watch out for is the Groom. He loves him some sterling silver.

Wonderful, he murmured, A full house of comedians. I do hope that you have an act for later. It will be most amusing.

Rusty laughed, slapping the stuffy guy on the back, You and I should go get wasted, later. I’d wager you’d be a lot of fun with some drinks in you. The stuffy man opened the door to the Bride’s room, and Rusty entered. When he crossed the threshold into the Bride’s room, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Her dress looked too gorgeous to describe. Words fell away at the sight. The wearer, to Rusty’s eyes, may have made the assessment a bit biased.

Angel, he breathed, y-y-you look…

Oh, shut up, she said, blushing.

Rusty cleared his throat, So, did you want to ask me something?

Angel frowned, Yeah. I, uh, I don’t think I can go through with this.

Hey, I can leave the car running. Just say the word, and I’ll pull it around, he said coolly.

Can’t you take this seriously, for once? She snapped. His gaze fell to the copper ring on her hand. His eyes widened. He was being serious, but he knew better than to come out and tell her how he felt.

***

So, this is the point where you’ve decided to start the story. No one has any idea what’s going on, you know, Rusty said. He sipped his drink, a whiskey sunrise, which was made of whiskey and orange juice. The bar stool he sat upon, while rudely criticizing the writer, was the bar stool Angel sat on when he met her for the first time.

Alright, fine. Go ahead; put one of my most vulnerable moments on the first page. See if I care. I don’t care, Rusty acquiesced, trying his best not to act hurt.

Sorry, Rusty, but bad things happen sometimes. It’s really all about rolling with it.

He laughed, You really don’t need to tell me that. I swear, I’ve got the core concept down. So, why am I even here? I thought I gave you all the information you needed to do this on your own.

Hey, come on now, don’t be like that. You’ve got that personal touch, you know? That’s what I want to talk about, not a list of items.

Alright, that’s fair. I started getting these items from the people I met. Some were discarded by accident, others were tokens of affection, and some were reminders of a harsh lesson I learned.

So, we might as well just dive right in, right? Where would you say that your story begins?

You said it yourself, didn’t you? My story begins here, right in this bar stool, where I met Angel. The single most important person in my life.

Chapter 1: Butterfly Pendant

"I was young, barely out of High School. My high school graduation day was a monumental moment in my life, at least at the time. My mother couldn’t make it; something about a big client meeting she couldn’t cancel. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t really matter, but, at the time, it felt like the worst betrayal of my young life. I had a girlfriend throughout my formative high school years named Katie. She meant the world to me. I’ve heard people say that your first love is the strongest, due to the amount of new feelings that come with it. I planned to lose my virginity to her as soon as we graduated. Funny thing about plans, though."

-Rusty

Rusty, this isn’t working out, she said, avoiding his gaze.

What? Why? Rusty responded, shocked. His square cap slid off of his head and drifted down to the grass.

I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad. I just need some time to find myself outside of this relationship, Katie continued, fidgeting nervously, We can still be friends, right? Rusty couldn’t reply. He stood there, dumbfounded. His class around him threw their caps up in the air in celebration of their graduation. Katie frowned at him. As soon as he opened his mouth to respond, she vanished. He called out after her, desperate to do anything he could in order to keep her. It felt like a knife had pierced into his stomach, twisted, and the handle had snapped off so he couldn’t get it out. He stuffed his cap and gown into the dumpster and stormed off. Rusty needed to get away from that school and that life.

Yo, Rusty, wake up! Jim bellowed in his ear.

Rusty glanced up, Huh, wha..?

C’mon, man, you’re chopping the lemons all wrong, Jim shook his head. Rusty looked down at the horrid mess of mangled lemons he had created.

Aww, damn it, he scooped them up and tossed them into the trash. The manager looked over at him, disappointed. Rusty swallowed the lump in his throat and grabbed a fresh lemon to chop into actual, useful wedges.

You’re so clueless sometimes, Rusty.

Shut up, Rusty laughed, It’s not like I’ve ever worked in a bar before. How did I let you talk me into this job, anyway? I have the social skills of a baked potato, or so you tell me.

Trust me when I tell you that you’re going to love it here. This place is magical. The Dusty Rose is the best place to work in the world, Jim chuckled.

I know of some guys at a certain dot com who would beg to differ, he replied, smirking.

Those guys are super nerds. They sit in their little cubicles, secretly wishing that they had a chance to work in this bar. Stick with me; you’ll see what I mean soon enough. I’ll show you things you’ve only seen on extremely graphic websites.

I’m thrilled that I haven’t eaten anything to throw up, yet, Rusty mumbled, mock-gagging. The door opened, and five people walked into the bar. The four guys of the group all wore average-looking clothes, except the one guy of the group who had on sandals and a straw hat, despite the chilly air of the night. The girl, however, immediately captured Rusty’s attention. She had long blonde hair that naturally curled down at her shoulders; stunning green eyes with bits of blue in them that locked onto his gaze, and a puffy white coat over her brown business casual outfit with cute brown boots that zipped on the sides. Over her green eyes she wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses. Rusty was completely mesmerized by her eyes, not unlike a mouse staring into the eyes of a hungry cobra.

Hey, did you hear me? she asked, her voice the sound of a slightly off-tuned violin.

Jim grinned, Excuse my friend, here. He got introduced to society a few days ago. That being said, his choice of wardrobe is astounding. Rusty heard himself mumble and stammer. His ability to form words escaped him. Instead of running for the hills, like many girls had done in his presence in the past, this particular girl laughed.

She slipped a few strands of hair behind her ear, "So, this is your good friend Rusty. He seems to be able to understand speech, at least. Nice work there, Jim."

It’s my pleasure, nay, my calling, to help those in need, Jim teased, So, what can I get you, Angel?

She pressed her lips into a hard line, Normally, I’d say, ‘the usual’ while flirting a little to see if I could get me and the guys some free beer. But, seeing as how I’m kind of barking up the wrong tree, can we get two rounds of beer to start, and a bottle of champagne?

Jim’s eyes widened, No way. Don’t tell me. You did it, didn’t you?

Angel grinned, Hell yeah we did it! I am the best, after all.

He smiled wide, That’s great news! I’m so happy for you! You deserve it. Angel strolled back over to her friends, beaming with alcohol in hand. They whooped and hollered, celebrating the arrival of their booze.

Uh, Rusty whispered to Jim, What did she do, exactly?

Jim smiled, See that guy with the sandals over there with them? He nodded. Well, Jim continued, Angel works with some of the most creative people in the city. She just signed him with a huge art gallery project. People say he’s a really big deal.

What’s his name?

Honestly, I have no idea. He’s been Angel’s friend since, well, forever, but everyone calls him Sandals.

Sandals, huh, Rusty rubbed his chin, Couldn’t imagine why they would call him that.

Before he could process what happened, the bar exploded with patrons, all clamoring for a drink. Rusty couldn’t recall a time where he felt more alien at any point in his life than at that moment. Each person he awkwardly served made the feeling grow, as well. In contrast, Jim seemed to be having the time of his life. Everyone adored him, especially the regulars, while they took their drinks cautiously from Rusty, as if he had slipped something into them.

Hey, listen. I wouldn’t normally suggest this, but you need to relax a little, the manager said, sitting at the bar. He grabbed a bottle of vodka, expertly poured Rusty a shot, and then slid it over to him. Rusty gulped, staring at the shot.

I’ve never actually had alcohol before, he admitted.

The manager laughed, Seriously? Well, that explains a lot. Down that shot. I’m gonna do you a favor. Rusty drank the shot back, wincing as it burned down his throat and into the pit of his stomach. Coughing wildly, he wiped tears from his eyes.

Not bad, kid, the manager stood up on the bar, signaling someone to cut the music. He gently pushed the crossword puzzle he had been doing to the side with his foot to keep from stepping on it. Ladies, gentlemen, esteemed guests, and Angel, he announced, ignoring Angel’s middle finger, I have just been informed that Rusty, the newest addition to our little family, turned twenty-one today. The bar roared with deafening cheers. Rusty felt his face burning, and desperately tried to find something to look at.

So, the manager continued, If you will all raise your glasses. A toast. To you, Rusty. The manager stepped down from the bar, smiling towards Jim as he gathered his crossword puzzle and strolled back to his office. The patrons flooded the bar, desperately throwing money down to buy Rusty shots. Deciding it would be impolite to refuse the alcohol, Rusty drank every single shot. Within minutes, he found himself so drunk that he could hardly stand on his own two feet. Angel leaned against the bar, giggling at the story he was belting out at anyone who would hear him.

So anyway, she looked me right in the eye, Rusty stammered, And you know what she said? She told me that she ‘needed to work out who she was outside of the relationship.’ I mean, what kind of line is that?

Lemme guess, Angel stuttered, just as drunk, She wanted to be friends, right?

Rusty laughed, Wow, you must be psychic.

She smiled, Oldest trick in the book. She wanted to dump you, but didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

That makes me feel loads better, Rusty mumbled sarcastically.

Don’t look at me. I didn’t dump you, she said, feigning offense.

Jim laughed, Is Angel corrupting you, Rusty?

Rusty shrugged, Honestly, too drunk to tell. That’s probably a sign, though.

Angel giggled, Hey, maybe he’s corrupting me. Ever think of that?

Jim smirked, Not even for a second.

Damn it. You’re such a ball-buster, Jim. I can’t get away with anything around you. You know me too well, she snapped her fingers in disappointment.

And I drink to forget, he added.

Angel looked over at Rusty, her expression turning serious, Hey, you seem cool. I mean, when you use human words. Tell you what, I’m gonna give you my number. Remember, this is strictly business, understand? I don’t need you falling in love with me or anything, alright?

Angel, you little harlot. Getting your hooks into him like that, Jim teased.

Shut up, bitch, she fired back, rolling her eyes. She slapped her business card down on the bar in front of Rusty. Her four guy friends stumbled up to her, mumbling something about a cab. Rusty could barely understand a word of what they were saying over the ambient noise of the rest of the bar.

Hey Rusty, Sandals clasped him firmly on the shoulder. Rusty could feel a deep love of patchouli from the guy’s expression, Happy birthday, dude. I’ll catch you later. Then they were gone. Jim and the manager cleaned the place up, all the while telling Rusty his duties for a normal shift. They both insisted that he not do anything for the night, since were sure he might pass out in his own vomit. Before long, Rusty found himself inside the passenger seat of Jim’s car. Jim drove down the city streets, careful not to swerve too much.

Hey, Rusty drunkenly slurred, I don’t think I’ve been in your car before. It’s trashed. I thought you guys were supposed to be clean and neat.

Jim rolled his eyes, Common misconception. We are actually dirty filthy mole people here to take all of your earthly possessions.

What, really? Rusty asked, his eyes wide.

Jim laughed, No. Holy crap you’re plowed. Rusty smiled. He looked out the window, watching the high skyscrapers whip by. Being drunk felt great. He didn’t have a care in the entire world.

***

Ha, I forgot how naïve I was back then. Not that I’m not, now, at least to some degree. I’d prefer to say that I know more things. I’ve weathered more storms since then. Objectively, I feel as though I have to say something about Angel.

Right. This is something so important that you had to interrupt the story to say, right?

Shut up. I realize that it sounds like she’s a perfect Greek sculpture carved out of pure marble miraculously come to life, but she has some flaws. She’s got this snaggle-tooth here on her front tooth, he pointed to his tooth, And, not to mention her wider hips than someone with her frame would normally have. She says it’s her big bones if you bring it up, but it’s really cheesecake and ice cream. Also, how short she is. She’s barely over five feet. And don’t get me started on her tit- wait, what are you doing?

Nothing. Don’t mind me. Taking some notes is all. Honest.

You sonofa-

***

The next day, Rusty woke up with a massive throbbing headache. He had trouble figuring out whose apartment he ended up in. After a few minutes, he figured out that he had somehow ended up underneath his own bed. His phone vibrated violently on top of his bedside table. Rusty lumbered into the kitchen in search of powerful medication. After he got his swollen head to subside, he opened his phone up to check his messages.

Jim: Great job. Manager really likes you. Keep up the good work! Rusty fired off a quick text to Jim, and then scrolled down to the next text.

Harry: Hey, man. You were super wasted last night. This is Harry. Just sent you the computer program you said you needed. Have fun with it, but remember that it’s a prototype. He didn’t remember seeing Harry at all last night. Rusty shrugged. He would have to check his email when he didn’t feel like violently puking out his spleen.

Sandals: Hey, bro. Listen, we’re having a big celebration party for the new art gallery. Tonight was just the pre-party. Angel asked if I would invite you. Hit me up for the details. Later! Rusty shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to fake that he liked bad paintings, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Getting on Angel’s good side seemed like a good idea to him. He continued scrolling, finally reaching the end of the list.

KT: Hi. How are you? His heart leaped into his throat. No freaking way. There it was, plain as day. Katie’s phone number attached to a text message. He hadn’t seen or heard from her since graduation day. She could’ve been dead for all he knew. Or super pregnant. The text reminded him of high school, where he would sit at his family’s computer and send instant messages to her for hours on end. He missed meals for a chance to talk to her for a little while longer. Every once in a while, when the adults allowed, he got to take her out on a proper date, which usually consisted of dinner at a Chinese restaurant and a movie. She didn’t complain at the time, but