InsaneJournal

Who: Gemma Masters & Neena Thurman
What: Interviewing
Where: Neena's bar
When: 9/19
Warnings/Rating: PG for Gemma's mouth
Status: Complete



Neena felt like a loser hiring another manager. She knew that James couldn’t cover the bar all the time, and that she couldn’t either, now. It was a logical thing to do. She had the money, and she’d even planned for this.

Of course, she’d planned for this to happen in January, not right now, but the world was far from perfect. She was at the bar drinking soda water waiting for lucky contestant number five. Hopefully this one wouldn’t be a flake or a weirdo. She felt horrible and weak, but she was going to get through this almost no matter what.

Gemma was tired, but hopefully still looked presentable enough for her last interview of the day. This was for a manager’s position, not just a bartender, so hopefully she could make a good impression. Upon stepping in, she looked around, trying to get a feel for the place, deciding she liked it. A good mix of people, mostly blokes, but a few women who looked comfortable enough.

She’d been told to look for a woman with dark hair and a spot-eye (really?), and saw one soon enough at the bar. “Pardon. Looking for Neena?”

“You found her.” Neena put her soda down and extended her hand to Gemma. “Don’t worry, it’s just tonic. So, let’s get right into it, shall we?” She looked Gemma over, then crooked her finger to call James over. “I’m not drinking right now, so I’m going to have a surrogate drink for me. He’ll also set up whatever liquor you need. You’ll make three drinks, then we’ll talk about other stuff.” She moved to pull the hinged section of the bar up. “First up is a cosmopolitan.” It was Neena’s best drink, and she wanted to make sure she left a decent replacement for the clients who liked it.

“I’m Gemma. No trouble.” She didn’t seem like the type to be called ma’am, and Gem wasn’t much for that shite anyway. She ducked under the bar and started to look around, making sure the bottles were in the appropriate places. Without a word, she started to mix; Cosmopolitans were easy. Three ingredients, and she set one before the woman in under a minute and a half. She might be a trifle slow, but that would get better.

Neena nodded, pleased that she’d found the bottles on her own. James sighed and sipped the drink. “I’m picking the next one,” He told Neena. “This is good.”

Neena laughed and nodded. “Alright. Gemma, it’s Saturday night and you’re on your own at the bar for a while ‘cause someone’s on lunch. You get a big rush, and you’ve got to make a quick decision about how to handle it. What do you do?”

“Your bottles’re in the right places. Testament to your people, not me.” She wasn’t even trying to look humble, it was just the truth. “About a rush ... hm.” She thought for a second. “Prob’ly try to push specials. If I can just pour twenty of the same shot, gonna reduce the crowd, yeah?” There were simple answers that most bar owners or managers expected. “If I can’t push no specials, prob’ly going to try a bit of flash - make the drinks quick, but smile, flash a bit. Keep ‘em distracted while they wait.”

Neena nodded. That was a good answer. She motioned for James to proceed. “We get a lot of people wanting Long Islands, so show us how you’d do that in a flashy way.”

Neena looked impressed. That was a good one. He was learning. It made her so proud to see her little padawan turning into a real manager.

“Long Island Ice Tea,” Gemma said, as if to center herself. “Right-o.” A lot of cruise passengers had wanted those - she thought she remembered how to do that. She made sure to smile brilliantly, and when she got the chance, she did the one trick move she knew how to do - tossing the bottle behind her back and catching it. She was a little faster with that one, taking maybe a minute. Most drinks were supposed to come out between forty-five seconds and one minute, and she hit around the minute mark.

James tasted it, nodding again. Neena smiled. “Very nice. Good trick with the bottle.” She remembered how many bottles had died while she’d learned to do that kind of stuff. Luckily they’d been empties. “Alright, you get a guy complaining about his drink being watered down. You remember he asked for it on the rocks, and it’s all liquid now. He’s not drunk, he’s just an asshole. He’s yelling at you, how do you handle it?”

“Bottle ain’t too difficult.” Gemma grinned. “I worked me way round the world from Paris to L.A. on a cruise ship, and they wanted to teach us all to be like bloody Tom Cruise. I only got the one move down, though.” As for the other question, Gemma thought for a second. Eventually she answered, “I’d probably knuckle under once. Play it like okay, I misheard you about it bein’ on the rocks. If he ain’t drunk, he ain’t trying to scam, or if he is trying to scam and complains again, then I’d tell him to piss off.”

As much as that answer sucked, it was the best she’d heard so far. “Where are you from?” The accent was interesting. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself, and why you became a bartender.”

“I’m from Liverpool, by way of London, an’ lately I might sound weirdly Indian ‘cause most of the crew on the cruise ship was from Bombay.” Gemma grinned. “Started bartending at fifteen, mostly ‘cause I could, also to get outta the house. Mum and Dad used to argue a lot, and so on. I preferred to make money.”

“Sounds rough.” Neena noted. The story sounded like her own a little. “Tell me about the cruise ship while you make whatever your specialty is.”

“Cruise ship was a lark, really. Sodded off from London to Paris, and a mate told me they were accepting applications.” Gemma shrugged. She started to make a kamikaze, but with a twist - she reached for the flavoured vodka. “I applied in much the same manner I am doin’ now, and they took me on. Went from Paris to L.A. with about ten stops in between.” She presented the kamikaze. “Triple sec, lime juice, and cake flavoured vodka. Makes it lighter.”

“That sounds pretty good.” Neena said, wistfully. James made a face, but he drank after Neena swatted his hip. “He’s not a fan of sweet drinks.” She explained. “How long did you do that?”

“I’ll make the regular one, then.” Gemma said, immediately going back for regular Smirnoff, talking as she worked. “I was on the cruise for ... six months? Frankly, I’d do it again if I could, but not sure how I’d get back to Gay Paree from here.” She grinned. “Figured this was a good spot to stay a bit. Also found out my ruddy Uncle lives not far away - don’t know when he felt like pulling up stakes - so I’ve even got family to keep me warm.”

“Don’t worry about him, he’s a whiner.” Neena noted, receiving a long suffering sigh for her trouble. “So was it good?” She asked him. He nodded, but he was much more eager to try the regular kamikaze. “So what makes you think you’ll be a good manager?”

“I don’t take shite.” Gemma replied, still grinning, at least at first. “No, all joking aside, I know how to manage people, but at the same time, I’m not here to pat anyone’s ego, especially if everything’s gone tits up. Being a dictator is stupid, but so is being everyone’s mate.”

Neena was impressed. She looked up at James to read his expression. Gemma would be his assistant primarily, since Neena was looking down the barrel of a long time spent away from the place. The past few candidates hadn’t impressed him, but Neena could see that Gemma was different. Good. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“If things work out, probably here.” Gemma shrugged. She could have given some bootlicking answer, but they’d probably see through it and she didn’t like kissing arse anyway. “If I can find somewhere to grow into me job, that’s fine by me. Not lookin’ to change the world, just to find a good job, keep me head down and do it.”

Neena nodded. “You know much about sports?”

“A bit. More about footy and the like than American football, but I can learn. I mean, they do hear me, I am English. I bet some of the dumber blokes would buy drinks just to try and teach me the rules.” Gemma shifted her shirt, letting just a hint of cleavage show.

Neena gave her a crooked grin, and James facepalmed. He got another swat on the hip for his trouble. “Anything else you’d like us to consider before get to the part where I explain your duties?”

Gemma debated telling them she didn’t have a visa, but decided to keep that from them. That way there was plausible deniability. “Can’t think of anything, no. I date a bit, but I do m’best to keep it professional if my current whatever happens to come in. Seen too many people sacked for havin’ their boy toy drink free.”

“Glad you brought it up, actually.” Neena noted, sipping her soda water. “Because the patrons are probably going to flirt with you. They’re all old perverts with wives three times your age, they like to look at a little fresh meat. They don’t get grabby or anything, unless they want to pull back a stump, but they’re going to get raunchy. If you do have boyfriends or girlfriends coming in I don’t want them starting shit because we’ve got the inspiration for Mad Men staring at your chest. That said, if anyone gives you crap that’s over the line, you don’t take that shit either. I’m not going to say you have to be able to put up with these old bastards or you’ll need to walk, but you are going to have to set up your boundaries one way or another. Is that something you’re comfortable with?”

“I’m used to it.” Gemma laughed. Tending bar in London had lessened her bullshit tolerance by half. “I used to clear Mum’s friend’s pub in less than ten minutes when it was closing time, and don’t think my being fifteen made any of the punters flirt with me less. Only ever really hurt one person between ages fifteen and twenty-two, though; he told me he’d kidnap me and tie me to his bed, and I grabbed his willy and twisted. Don’t regret that one.”

Neena snorted, then looked at James, who was shaking his head again. “She’s a miniature you.” He noted, with a long suffering (and completely fake), sigh.

Neena couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I think we’re done here.” She stood up, moving over to open the top of the bar so she could get back to show Gemma around. “Alright, so I’ll run down what we expect of you if you take the job, interrupt me if you have any questions.”

Gemma figured this was the time to shut up and listen, so she did just that, nodding. It all seemed fairly straightforward so far. The bloke seemed a straight shooter, and the woman owner, Neena, she liked her.

Neena went over her duties, which would mostly be double checking tills, calling people in if there were call outs, enforcing good behavior, and mediating disputes. She moved along methodically, explaining things fully as she got to them, but remaining casual the whole time. She wasn’t looking to impress the woman with her professionalism, she wanted someone she could work with. “Any questions?”

Gemma listened, nodding, asking a few questions, mostly just letting Neena talk. Nothing was out of the ordinary from her previous jobs. The only question she asked was “What about dress code? Is there a uniform, or just don’t dress like a streetcorner tramp?”

“Wear what you want, but if you don’t want patrons tossing peanuts down your shirt you should probably wear something a little high cut, and if I can see your ass crack I’m going to put ice cubes down your pants.” She snickered a little. She wasn’t sure she could get away with it, but it was a good threat. “Oh, and closed toe shoes, in case you drop a glass or something. Do we have a manual?” She asked James, who shrugged. “I don’t think we do, actually. I should work on that.”

“Shoes’re common sense, yeah. I had a coupla shirts I wore that seemed to do the trick.” Gemma favored t-shirts that were on the tight side - eyecatching, but not easy to arse around with. “Fine line between showin’ off and askin’ for that peanut.” She smirked.

Neena snorted. “I think you’ll be fine.” She finished the tour and held the hinged section of the bar up for Gemma. “We’ll get back to you when we have a concrete answer, shouldn’t be more than a couple days. You want anything to drink before you hit the road?”

“Nah. Thanks, should be all right.” She was heading home, and then out with a friend for drinks of her own. “‘Preciate your time, yeah?’ She stuck a hand out to Neena, and then to James. “Glad you could work me in.”

They both shook her hand, and Neena poured herself another soda water before making her way back to her seat. James went to get the door for Gemma, smiling cheerfully as he said goodbye.