14th July 2009
He had all the time in the world—it was a Tuesday, the bar was only just starting to fill up, and they were overstaffed.
“Can I get a Fosters?”
Yazid grinned and straightened from putting the clean glasses back. It was quarter past seven, and the doormen had only just showed up for their shift—and Ali was, therefore, bang on schedule.
“I told you,” Yazid said, “that you’re barred.”
Ali laughed. He’d come straight from the beauty salon, still in his dark uniform top, and he sank onto an empty bar stool. “How about that Fosters, then?”
“I suppose I can manage that.” Yazid twirled the glass in his hand before smirking and asking, “Coming over tonight?”
Yazid kind of liked his job since Ali had come along. It used to be boring, but now Ali would come after work, have a pi
