August 23, 2012 scottcjones 2Comments

I moved home after college and took Paula’s old job tending bar at the seafood restaurant. The bar’s patrons despised me for two reasons: one, I wasn’t Paula (she and her tight T-shirt collection had gotten engaged to a bald lawyer and moved to Albany); two, I constantly read fat novels behind the bar and would act put out whenever any of the fishermen asked me to refill their empty draft glasses or fetch more pretzels. I was patiently waiting for my life to start. My parents’ disappointed faces, which I saw each night at the dinner table over plates of…