Work From Home
A guy I had worked with in the past asked me if I was interested in doing some bar work occasionally at his home. I was happy to get the extra money and a change of scene. For the next four years I would arrive at the secret door around eight with my favorite tools and a few other items.
Then, I’d make drinks for couples who would come in with little masks, and other little things. They would mingle, then disappear and reappeared with different thirsts to quench.
It was barely work. I only worked for five hours. I gained an insight into an unknown world. Afterward, he thanked me, and handed me an envelope containing cash. He said that I might have recognized some people, and they would prefer that the fact that I had not been revealed.
I told him I had not seen anything, as if I were in a terrible film. Five hours of hard work was more than what I earn in a whole week. The next day I received a phone call asking me to come over for just a few moments. I had a few minutes to spare, so I went over. He welcomed me at the entrance, led me into the hallway, and told me that the guests had asked for me to take that and that they hoped I would see them again.
The same amount was in the envelope. This was repeated every few months over the next four-year period. I could no longer do it. It’s hard to explain, but the calls were a dread. It was sometimes depressing to be a part of something so disposable for them, while I lived on a small bag of change.
