Excerpt: The Lola Fund (Working Title)

She could smell the stink from the bathrooms as she walked by them and saw that a line outside the ladies room had formed that was about six people long. A girl too young to be out past eleven pm was banging on the door saying, "Open the door Jessica!" as the other girls stood with their legs crossed in front of them looking bored or miserable or sick. Lola headed for the bar where a girl in a long handkerchief skirt and a tee shirt that said "Legalize It" stood behind it and in front of a long row of shelves full of large liquor bottles and various kinds of glassware. The menu board was handwritten and was next to cash register on her right, tip jar on the left. "Can I just get a soda please?" Lola said and glanced idly over at the people sitting at the bar. A middle aged guy who looked like he was trying to be twenty-five again was deep in what looked like Crown on the rocks, a couple sharing a White Russian in much the same way a couple in the fifties would have shared a milkshake, and an older guy with a long pilsner glass with Octoberfest or Amber Bock in it. Lola noted that the head on his beer was too high. The hippie bartender must be either sloppy or new. The guy seemed to be waiting for the foam to go down before he could drink it.

"Kay." the bartender answered, with what Lola thought was an attitude of nonchalance, and began to punch a few buttons on the register. Lola noticed that her nametag said that her name was Andromeda. Lola wondered if she'd really been named that or she named herself. She thought the bartender had named herself, she looked like a person who'd name herself. Lola then wondered if a name meant anything if you named yourself, or if it really meant more than the name someone else gave you. Then Lola decided that these thoughts were not the thoughts of a drunk person, and that she needed to drink some more if she was ever going to enjoy herself that night. "Kay, its a dollar seventy." said Andromeda, interrupting Lola's thoughts. Lola had the money ready, she handed Andromeda, or whatever her name was, a five and then when she got her change back she threw the rest in the tip jar. Her tip was more than she payed for the soda, but she felt like she owed a bigger tip because she'd been drinking and was underage. She walked to the soda machine, plastic orange cup in hand, thinking of hippie names. Names that sounded cool but were kind of stupid to have as a name, like Coriander, Spirit, and Ocean. She thought of some more while pouring a Sprite for Erica. Zora, Journey, Seed, Rainbow, Garcia, Morning, Tuesday, Moss, Sunburst, Tranquilla, Garden. Lola preferred 'real' names like Amanda, Kylie, Leighanne, and Rebecca. Maybe she was old fashioned, she thought, and pushed open the door to the smoking section and was enveloped in dark and fog once more. She sat the drink down by Erica and stubbed out her cigarette. No one seemed to care that she had carried it around the restaurant outside the smoking section when she was getting the soda but she didn't bother to reflect on this, it wasn't the first time. No one really cared at Little Joe's. The smoking section was just for looks and everyone knew it. Lola again climbed over the other patrons in the same fashion as before. It was almost four in the morning. The post-clubbing crowd was beginning to filter in for some greasy food to help ease their stomachs filled with Jager Bombs and Redheaded Sluts before going home with a person they'd only known for thirty minutes tops. The smoking section was more crowded than ever. Lola managed to get back to her place between Erica and Andrew. Erica hadn't changed a bit and Andrew was puffing a new cigarette and texting.

"Erica, hey... I brought you a soda." Lola said and lightly shook Erica's arm. "It was five dollars so you'd better drink it." Lola wedged herself in the booth and sipped at Erica's long abandoned Grateful Dead. It tasted like the devil's version of fruit juice. Lola made a 'yuck' face but continued to drink.