woodswitchwriter

[woodswitchwriter]

Underpaid

If you’re going to get paid minimum wage, about the worst place on earth to work is a vampire bar. Ever since they came out of the coffin, vampire bars have been springing up faster than Starbucks. (And Starbucks had just announced that they were open late and proud to serve their undead patrons! TruBlood available in 6 varieties and 4 sizes!) It wasn’t quite so prevalent in the South, but it was about twice as dangerous because the Bible-thumpers were almost as likely to kill you as the vampires.

Humans—and women especially—who worked in vampire bars were liable to come out with scars, lacerations, and whole nights they can’t remember (or were glamoured to forget), and that’s among the ones who made it out at all. At least, that’s all Hunter Dixon had heard about since the new vampire bar opened in Shreveport.

“You know I heard that poor Maudette Pickens set one foot in that place and never came out again.”

“You don’t even have to talk to them, you know. They know from the moment they smell you whether you’re gonna make it out alive or not.”

“You can be sweet as pie and they’ll kill you for smiling.”

If there’s anything you can count on in a small southern town, it’s fear of anything different spreading quicker than crabs in a frat house. But perhaps this time they weren’t entirely wrong. Vampires did kill people, although not as often as they’d like to say, and people did come out of those places eat up with tooth marks and scratches and hickeys, but most of that was consensual--and enthusiastically so.

Still, for $7.25 an hour, it was an insanely poor choice of a job. You can push Big Macs at a McDonalds and not have to worry about hiding bite marks from your folks. But, Hunter didn’t have folks. They also didn’t have the open schedule for a full time day job. What they did have was tuition payments, and that’s how they wound up in Shreveport’s own Fangtasia for a job interview.

They realized their casually-formal outfit was a stupid choice when they had to share a red leather couch with two men clad in fish nets and latex who were damn close to needing a cigarette. They’d given up on politely not staring and were examining the tattoos of the one on top when they were approached by the prettiest woman they’d ever seen.

“Well, aren’t you...quaint.”

Hunter looked away from a poorly inked tribal tattoo and up a set of long slender legs to a woman with honey-blonde hair and a curt, disdainful expression.

Pretty much the only thing running around Hunter’s brain was no thoughts pretty lady but, thankfully, their mouth was less distracted. “Are you the manager?”

“Owner.” The blonde corrected, “Come with me.”

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“It says here you have...oh! Less than no experience. How nice.” They’d moved into a small but plush office where the woman (who reluctantly introduced herself only as Pam) sat behind a large desk and scrutinized Hunter’s meager one-paged resume, leaving Hunter to twitch in the opposite seat. She looked up. “Why so unemployed?”

“School doesn’t leave a ton of time for work, but in a cruel twist of fate it does appear to cost money, so ... here I am. Desperate times and all that.” Hunter gave a smile that was weaker than their attempt at humor. Pam responded to neither. When she appeared to be waiting for something else to come out of Hunter’s mouth, Hunter offered up the first thing they thought of, “I’m also not that great with people.” 

Pam watched them for a single beat of silence. “Well I can’t imagine how you came to that conclusion.” She deadpanned, dropping the resume to the desk with an air of finality and standing.

“What are you doing, the interview just started.” Hunter said quickly. 

“You aren’t exactly dazzling me.” 

“Yeah I’m not good at that either, but listen—“ They stood and blocked the blonde’s path. Pam raised a single, manicured brow. “Listen, I’m a hard worker. And I’m desperate. And I know you’re understaffed, I only saw one waitress on the floor tonight.”

“You have no experience.” Pam weaved around them in one swift motion.

“And no scheduling conflicts!” Hunter said, following her. “I’ll start out full time. You can work me to death for all I care!”

“Careful what you wish for around here.” Pam said without looking back. “We already have a waitress, sorry. Thank you for your time.”

“That girl is glamoured within an inch of her sanity and you know it.” Pam stopped and turned so fast that Hunter nearly collided with her.

“That,” She emphasized carefully, “Is a bold and dangerous accusation.”

Hunter’s breath stuttered and a wave of fear ran down their spine. 

“Okay, fine, maybe she just works too hard.” They backpedaled in a lower voice. “My point is, I don’t really care. Either way, you could use me.”

Pam tilted her head, and with a small wet click, two long fangs hung between her plump lips.

“And is that,” A step closer. “An invitation?”

no thoughts pretty lady no thoughts pretty lady no thoughts pretty lady 

Hunter chewed on their bottom lip in the way they always did when they were determined to get something. They pulled their eyes away from the teeth and allowed themselves a small smile. “Hire me and we’ll talk.”

Pam watched their face carefully, as though searching for weaknesses in their resolve. Then, with another click, the fangs disappeared.

“I’ll think about it.” Hunter breathed in relief. “And then, I’ll talk to my partner about it. Then we might call you.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Hunter said evenly.

“And you would start part time, like all the other employees.

They tongued the inside of their bottom teeth. “Fine.”

“And even then you’d have to learn fast. I don’t have time to lead you around on a leash. Not for work, anyway.” Pam allowed, with another characteristic once-over. “And whatever poor people-skills you’ve got, wrangle them. They’ll get you hurt around here.”

“I’ll show up, I’ll shut up, I’ll carry drinks, and I’ll leave.” Hunter said. 

Pam fingered a strand of her hair, deliberating, before saying, “We’ll be in touch.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Hunter contained their pleasure, but not all that well, as they saw the corners of Pam’s mouth twitch.

“Ditch the blouse, you look like a bank teller.”

Their brow furrowed as they looked down at their outfit. When they looked back up, Pam was nowhere to be found. 

Hunter allowed themselves a self-satisfied smile before they turned and made for the door.

It was barely more than two days later when they got the call.