“You sure you want one of them?” Tammy double checked with the guy, if she couldn’t change his mind, it meant lugging a crate of beers from the cellar.
“I’d like what I asked for, if it’s all the same with you?” Niyol was not going to change his mind.
Tammy tried to stare him down. Okay, so he was a good looking guy, tall and handsome, with a trace of Native American features, but didn’t he realize that her shift was nearly over and she really didn’t want to go into that damp, dark cellar, just to get his bloody beer?
“Is there something special about that particular beer, that none of the others taste like?”
Niyol noticed the cold stare she was giving him, but he knew he wasn’t going to change his mind. It wasn't by chance that the beer he wanted was in the cellar.
“Sorry,” he replied, staring back at her with no intention of being the one to look away. “That’s the beer I ordered, and that’s the beer I want.”
Tammy knew her cold stare wasn’t going to work on this guy. She was going to have to go down there, in the last ten minutes of her shift, just for this punk.
“Right,” she said, in his face, “you’ll have to wait until I fetch some up from the cellar, won’t you?” she told him, hoping this might change his mind.
“I suppose I will,” he replied, equally as cocky, “you better get going then.”
Nothing she said was going to work. With a loud audible sigh, especially for his benefit, she turned and looked for the cellar keys. Tammy slammed the drawer open and shut, ensuring he knew exactly how she felt about his bloody beer.
“Sorry,” she said, turning back to him, “it seems Paul, the cellar guy, has taken the key with him on his lunch.”
“Is that not it there?” Niyol asked, pointing to a key hanging on a hook, just under the wine glasses shelf. She really wasn't making this easy for him, he thought.
That was her last throw of the dice, she knew exactly where the key was, and it seemed that so did he. She had tried to appeal to his better nature, but this guy didn't have one, Tammy thought to herself. There was no point asking anyone else either, because the few staff on duty were all new here. This job sucked. Staff were always changing, customers were awkward, like this guy here, and all she wanted to do was finish her shift, go home and pick up with her friends on Facebook.
“Okay, I won’t be long, Sir,” she placed extra emphasis on the sir, letting him know exactly what she thought of him.
Tammy opened the cellar door, reluctantly. She hated the cellar, it always gave her the creeps, and she usually refused to go down there. It was definitely haunted, she was sure, or perhaps it was just her imagination, but there was something about it. Maybe she should just get her coat and go home now, she had less than ten minutes left on her shift, no-one would be any the wiser. Nah, she couldn’t afford to be sacked again, the rent was due. She’d just have to suck in air and get down there. Quickly, she turned around to see if she could change his mind, but he had his back to her. If only she knew where this particular crate of beers was located, then she could be up and down in no time at all. It was going to take ages to find it.
Switching on the light, she mustered up courage and put one foot in front of the other, descending into the damp smelling, black hole of a cellar. The light was dim, Paul her boss was a cheapskate and hadn't replaced the blown bulbs down here, making it difficult to see. Somewhere there was the drip, drip of water. She wouldn’t be surprised if mushrooms didn’t grow down here, or something worse. She quickly scanned all the crates, searching for this guy’s particular brand, desperate to get out of this place, when she heard a noise, like a scraping, as if a door was opening.
She looked in the direction of the noise but could not see anything in the darkened corners, although one corner looked a little darker than the others. She was about to turn her head again when she felt a light breeze flow across her face. Staring hard now into the corner, she was now convinced that it definitely was darker than anywhere else in the cellar, as though there was another room. She’d never noticed another room before. Maybe the specialist beer crates were in there, because she couldn’t find them here. As she neared the darkened shape, she could make out it was an entrance to another room. She supposed it was a bit hidden away. With this dim light it was no wonder she’d not noticed it before. With a bit of luck the crate would be in here, and then she can get off home.