Don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows

Jeanie walked outside and lit a cigarette, it was her third today. She had gotten in at 7:40 and had smoked a couple before coming in. She had come in earlier just to see what the situation was, how bad was it, if maybe she needed to punch in early just to make sure she wasn't totally fucked. Sometimes it was like that, there would be a rush at around 6 in the morning, and by the time she got there all the buspans were full, and they would need her to come in early. She would anyway, just to avoid the frustration. Coming in with everything full, all the cooks yelling at her for plates, it was better to just get it going first thing. Throw in a couple loads of plates and get on top of everything, before she could go outside and enjoy a smoke. It had been her tradition for the past 3 years, finish all the dishes that were out there, then go outside and have a smoke, or two, or three. As she saw it, as long as she got done what needed to be done, and all the dishes were clear, and everything was straight out there, who cares if she took a few extra smoke breaks a day?

After all, she busted ass in there for a long time before they even gave her a raise, or switched her to morning hours. She had started doing 4-12, or 4-11, whatever they had her on. It would always depend on whatever Gary wanted. Sometimes she would be there until 9 or 10 or whenever they told her to leave early, then sometimes she would be there until 1 or 2 in the morning if things were going bad, it all depended. Finally she had had enough, and told Frank, her old manager, that she wanted to switch over to first shift or else she was going to quit. It had been that easy, Frank was like that. He liked her, they needed a dependable dishwasher who showed up on time everyday and got everything done, so he had accepted. Then, after the fire when Frank disappeared, everything had changed. Slowly. First Gary had been in charge which hadn't been too bad, but then they had hired Alex. Jeannie hadn't gotten along with from the get go. He didn't like how much time she spent in the shed, seemed to not like the fact that anyone was taking any breaks at all, despite the fact that he hardly did anything while he was there.

Jeannie peaked her head outside, she saw Jim walk out. He had a cigarette in his mouth as he walked outside his breath visible in the cold air. Jim made his way inside and sat down. 'How is it in there?' Jeanie asked him as he sat down. 'Not bad. Steady.' Jim said, picking up the newspaper and taking a look. They sat in silence for a moment. 'Oh yeah,' Jim said finally. 'We might not be able to come out here at all soon.' 'What do you mean?' Jeanie asked. 'New company policy, no smoking on company property, it said. Goes into effect the end of this month.' Jeanie took another drag of her smoke. 'Ill smoke out on the side of the road if I have to. He's not stopping me from smoking.' Jim nodded. Jeanie felt like he did that alot. Force of habit maybe. 'This is all about me.' She said finally. She knew it was true. From the moment they had first locked eyes they hadn't like each other. She knew, from day one this one is going to be my rival. My nemesis, the one who is going to oppose me. Alex had never liked her breaks, how she went outside whenever she pleased, and still was able to get everything done.

Jim got up, putting out his smoke. 'I'll see you in there.' Jeanie said to him as he walked out. He's definitely fucking with me, trying to provoke a  reaction. This isn't the only place out there to work, she had plenty of work experience. The pay certainly wasn't keeping here there, sometimes early in the week before her check came she often wondered if he would have enough gas to make it in. I don't give a fuck, she thought, I'm still smoking, I'll smoke out on the street if I have too. Fuck him.

Sam awoke with a strong sense of shame. Of regret. Of having done something to soil his reputation and dishonor his house. Something had gone wrong last night, terribly wrong. He rose slowly realizing he was, in fact, on the ground near his bed. The room was strewn with evidence of the previous night's mayhem. I called her, he thought, Andrea, I called her and we talked. Of course 'talked,' was a relative term. He couldn't recall weather the conversation was normal, pleasant and cordial, which he doubted it was, or weather it had been hostile, aggressive, and nasty, as what seemed the most likely truth. He got up slowly and walked up to his computer, there was a large can of beer next to it on the desk. He picked it up, it was half full, nice, he thought, and took a long swig. He felt the warmth as the beer entered his belly, ready to rock, he thought. Might as well keeping going, I have the next 2 days off anyway. Not that I have anything productive to do anyway, like look for a job or anything like that.

In his mind, as he was having the conversation, he had been perfectly fine, even articulate. But as he started to recreate it in his mind, what he could recall, there was a lot of screaming, shouting, possibly some sobbing. Sam picked up the can, it was a little less than half full, and took a long draw from it finishing it off. Well going to have to take a ride to the store-he looked outside, oh yeah. It's gone. The van, his license, any chance of going anywhere for a long while. He still forgot sometimes, would ponder excursions to places which not too long ago didn't seem too far, and it would all come back. Of course if he did have his license back he knew he probably would drive drunk again, the inevitably get caught again, possibly under worse circumstances. So maybe it was a good thing, hell at least I get some exercise. The screen on his computer was black, he hit the space bar. His facebook was upon, there it was. A long conversation, mainly on his side, asking her why she had broken up with him. How devastated he was, how she had 'ruined', his life, on and on. What the fuck? This he didn't remember. Though it didn't surprise him, he was feeling like a conversational drunk that night, he told her how he was like a failed state, a rogue nation, filled with turmoil and ruled by a corrupt, ineffectual leader. When that had done nothing to sway her he asked her how she could just throw him how like so much garbage, was any of there time together worth anything?

Sam had also asked her about Kevin, was she still going out with him, when she said yes, how could she go out with such a loser. It had finally ended with her saying he should probably get 'help', and to not call her again. He had tried to reply, but she had blocked him. It's alright, I don't need to talk to her. But he already feared it would happen again. I need to purge her number from my brain somehow, he thought to himself getting up. Hmm.... purging, doing something to forget, nothing a few tall boys can't solve. He put on his shoes and went out his side door, grabbing his backpack as he went out. . He got on his bike and rode down his hill, I could go to the one across the bridge, he thought to himself, but I feel like that guy gives me weird looks whenever I go in there. Besides it was always better in his mind to diversify the stores he went to in case he wanted to go back later in the day. I'll go to the one in town he thought as he reached the end of his road and started pedaling up the hill. This one always made him breath a little harder. It's just an excuse to drink, he told himself as he made his way up the hill. Andrea, the break-up, even though he was genuinely upset, he knew deep down, that he was just using it as an excuse to drink even more. An alibi, a crutch.

Sam felt the sun on his face as he made his way into town, he felt good, almost. Kevin, fuck, I still have to work with the guy. Kevin was an very non-confrontational person, so it was unlikely he would saying anything to him about it, let alone challenge him to a fight. It would just lead to incredibly awkward shifts at work. He made was way up to intersection in the center of town and across the street to the liquor store. As he pulled his bike up to the front, it dawned on him, this is where she works. Fuck. It was how they had first met. Well Ill be damned if I'm going to pedal my way all the back down there. Just go in quick, a surgical operation, in and out, he knew exactly what he wanted. He heard the bell ring as he entered, the clerk was in the back, he noticed as he walked in. Maybe its her day off. He kept his head down and went to cooler grabbing the six pack of tall boys, as he came up to the counter he saw it was her. Shit. He grabbed the 3 nips he wanted from the plastic racks on the side of the counter. 'Will that be all?' She said finally. 'Yeah.' He replied. She said a total, something under 10 dollars and he gave her a bill. She gave him the change and he quickly put the beer in his bag and the nips in his pocket.

Sam left the store fast, but he tried to be casual about it. That wasn't too bad, he thought to himself as he got on his bike and pedaled across the street. He went to a parking lot and pulled out one of the nips. At least she didn't seem to have much of a reaction to it. Of course he knew he was the one, in all reality who should feel strange. But he didn't, he felt like she should be apologizing to him..for creating the situation in the first place. He opened the nip and drank it down, after all, he thought, I've been coming to that store for a long then she's been working there, if anything she should be the one to leave. The felt the warmth from the whiskey as it went down, fuck. It was only 2PM on a Tuesday, and he still had two more days off. I'm going to come in friday looking like a hobo coming off a week-long bender. He didn't know why Alex had cut him down to four days. True two of those were 12 hour shifts, but it still seemed like something was off. It was the first time in a while that his days had been cut. He put his empty nip in his pocket and made his way back down the road to his house. Work, that was what he should really be worrying about, the true albatross hanging over him. But all he could think about was her.

Sam had gone back over to the woman's house who he had hooked up with at the bar a few months back recently. They had hung out for a little while, smoke a couple bowls, when he had tried to make a few moves she had explained that had been just the alcohol. That it was a good time and all, but that it was basically just a one time thing. She had two daughters that were close to his age, and some kind of complicated relationship with her ex-husband, but they could still hang out if that was ok? Ok, he said, that would be nice, and they had hung out a little longer. He asked her if she could spare him a couple pills as he left and she gave him a couple vicodin. 'Ill talk to you soon.' He said as he left. But they both knew that was a lie. Friends, who the hell wanted another friend?