"Hey, I'm looking for S.J. Is he here?"
I can't hear a goddamn thing over the thumping speakers. A platinum blonde bumps me hard, apologizing with a smirk and glancing at her overflowing cleavage. If I'd been carrying a drink, she'd have spilled it. I shake my head, and she frowns quizzically. Fuck off.
I tap a man on the shoulder. It's busier than I'd have expected for a Wednesday, but he turns away from the bar.
"Are you S.J.?"
"Nuh uh," he grunts, pointing. "That's him."
I push toward an enormous white striped shirt wrapped around a jiggling man with a jolly cast to his rosy cheeks. He's waving his hands telling a story to a small fellow with salt-and-pepper hair perched next to him.
"S.J.?"
His brows knit as I extend my hand.
"I'm Paul, from the bartender website."
He hesitates..."Oh! Hey, how are you? Come on, let's go back here."
Hoisting himself down from the barstool, he leaves his story hanging and leads me to an unoccupied table near the back of the room. Various patrons reach out as we pass, and he applies high-fives, nods, and words of encouragement where appropriate. A slim brunette in fishnets and a shredded wife beater blows him a kiss from behind the bar.
We chat for a few minutes about home and how the bar became the Michigan spot in Boston. He's owned The Place for a while, though it only recently joined the ranks of maize and blue, and he hates Ohio State already after only a brief time as a proximal fan.
"You'll start as a bouncer," he says, waving a meaty palm, "and a barback, before moving to the prime spot. It gets pretty crazy here, so you learn the ropes first."
"Cool," I say, struggling to stay nonchalant.
"We like Michigan alum here. You'll love it. Excuse me."
He heaves away, and I sit stunned for a second. I get up and make my way toward a tub filled with beers and ice, tended by yet another fox.
"S.J. told me I should come grab a beer."
"Sure," she chirps, and cracks a Corona. S.J. comes back with a few sheets of paper and has me fill them out.
"Shifts are nine to two," he says. "Can you come in on Saturday?"
"Absolutely. I'll be here in the afternoon anyway, drowning my football sorrows."
"Good. See you then."
He disappears into the main room, leaving me to fend for myself amid the pixies.