By Crossroads, #11004
Allyson was in the basement of the restaurant, checking the connections for the draft beer system and ensuring all their kegs were at acceptable levels. She stood, stretching the kinks out of her back.
“Jeez, all this bending over to read the gauges is murder on the back!” groused Allyson.
“Just be glad you don’t have to move, organize, and weigh these kegs every day, little girl!” said a deep voice from further back in the basement. “Every day I get stuck doing this.”
“It’s your fault for being built like an NFL linebacker, Artie! You make it look easy!” replied Allyson.
Arthur James Connelly, Artie, for short, adjusted his glasses and rose to his full height. At 6’ 4’ tall and 275 lbs., Artie was indeed an impressive specimen. He went to college on a football scholarship, as a linebacker, until a car accident ended his future career. He kept himself in top physical condition even now, but NFL teams aren’t recruiting anyone with a prosthetic leg. He has been working at the restaurant for about a year, trying to pay off his student loans. “Each of these kegs weigh 160 pounds full, Ally. While not too heavy for me, they are awkward and it does get tiring, especially since we have 24 beers on tap on most days.” Artie shot back.
“I know, I used to have to do it before you came along! Think how I felt!“ Ally said with a grateful smile and not mentioning the fact that she could juggle these kegs like ping pong balls. Suddenly her phone made a strident chirping noise. “Figures... let me check this message.”
It wasn’t actually her phone, it was her BADGE communicator, and she was no happy to see the message. However, it was an urgent summons, so she could just go about her business for now and deal with it later.
Artie was watching her carefully. He was a natural student of human behavior and almost supernaturally empathic, so he could tell by Allyson’s facial expressions, fleeting though they were, that the message wasn’t good news to her. He couldn’t resist
“What’s wrong? Bad news?”
“Umm, it’s nothing...its just that my other job is having a...I guess you could call it a ‘fitness competition’. They have all these events and let’s just say that I have not been putting in the gym time I need to do well at any of the events.” Allyson sighed, “And, unfortunately for me, its too late now to catch up. It just irks me because I’m super-competitive and I know I’m not going to be a challenge for anyone.”
Artie smiled at her encouragingly, “Listen Ally,” he said, placing a gigantic hand on her shoulder, “it’s not always about how well you do all that you do, but that you do it at all. Don’t worry so much about the beating someone and focus on just having fun. After all, you know your gonna lose, so you might as well just have fun with it!”
“You’re right,“ Allyson admitted. “I know you’re right, Artie....but sometimes, my ego gets the better of me and I get grumpy when I’m not the best.”
“You must be grumpy a lot, then,” Artie joked. “There’s always someone better than you somewhere out there!”
Allyson was in the basement of the restaurant, checking the connections for the draft beer system and ensuring all their kegs were at acceptable levels. She stood, stretching the kinks out of her back.
“Jeez, all this bending over to read the gauges is murder on the back!” groused Allyson.
“Just be glad you don’t have to move, organize, and weigh these kegs every day, little girl!” said a deep voice from further back in the basement. “Every day I get stuck doing this.”
“It’s your fault for being built like an NFL linebacker, Artie! You make it look easy!” replied Allyson.
Arthur James Connelly, Artie, for short, adjusted his glasses and rose to his full height. At 6’ 4’ tall and 275 lbs., Artie was indeed an impressive specimen. He went to college on a football scholarship, as a linebacker, until a car accident ended his future career. He kept himself in top physical condition even now, but NFL teams aren’t recruiting anyone with a prosthetic leg. He has been working at the restaurant for about a year, trying to pay off his student loans. “Each of these kegs weigh 160 pounds full, Ally. While not too heavy for me, they are awkward and it does get tiring, especially since we have 24 beers on tap on most days.” Artie shot back.
“I know, I used to have to do it before you came along! Think how I felt!“ Ally said with a grateful smile and not mentioning the fact that she could juggle these kegs like ping pong balls. Suddenly her phone made a strident chirping noise. “Figures... let me check this message.”
It wasn’t actually her phone, it was her BADGE communicator, and she was no happy to see the message. However, it was an urgent summons, so she could just go about her business for now and deal with it later.
Artie was watching her carefully. He was a natural student of human behavior and almost supernaturally empathic, so he could tell by Allyson’s facial expressions, fleeting though they were, that the message wasn’t good news to her. He couldn’t resist
“What’s wrong? Bad news?”
“Umm, it’s nothing...its just that my other job is having a...I guess you could call it a ‘fitness competition’. They have all these events and let’s just say that I have not been putting in the gym time I need to do well at any of the events.” Allyson sighed, “And, unfortunately for me, its too late now to catch up. It just irks me because I’m super-competitive and I know I’m not going to be a challenge for anyone.”
Artie smiled at her encouragingly, “Listen Ally,” he said, placing a gigantic hand on her shoulder, “it’s not always about how well you do all that you do, but that you do it at all. Don’t worry so much about the beating someone and focus on just having fun. After all, you know your gonna lose, so you might as well just have fun with it!”
“You’re right,“ Allyson admitted. “I know you’re right, Artie....but sometimes, my ego gets the better of me and I get grumpy when I’m not the best.”
“You must be grumpy a lot, then,” Artie joked. “There’s always someone better than you somewhere out there!”
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