Sloppy Sam's

Sloppy Sam’s Bar and Grill was the last place someone would want to take their family for a nice dinner. While it was the longest-lived business in Maplebrook, it was the sort of place that got mentioned in the police blotter in the local paper at least twice a month. Biker gangs and drug dealers and ne’er-do-wells called Sloppy Sam’s their home, and the seedy pub was no stranger to bar fights and criminal dealings.

Two years ago, Val Thornton never would have pictured herself working in a place like Sloppy Sam’s–but no one would guess that by looking at her. She wore her scarlet-dyed hair shaved on one side of her head to show off her multiple ear and cartilage piercings and the dragon tattoo that crept up her neck. More tattoos decorated her muscular, capable arms as she mixed drinks behind the bar and tossed out troublemakers with the help of Randy, the massive bouncer at Sloppy Sam’s. Val and Randy were both members of The Chaos Cruisers, Maplebrook’s dominant biker gang, as was Marge, the owner of the whole establishment. Even though Marge was “older than dirt,” in her own words, she still wore the leather and denim Chaos Cruiser uniform and used language that would make a sailor blush.

Though Val was a relative newcomer to Maplebrook, having arrived only a year and a half ago, Randy and Marge had taken her in and made her feel like one of their own, once she passed their “initiation ritual” of serving a Saturday night rush solo with no bouncer backup. Sloppy Sam’s usual clientele took a shine to Val, who was good-looking and could cuss and play pool with the best of them. Since then, most nights found Val in the pub, either behind the bar or at the pool table.

The evening of Tuesday, July 23, 2024 was no different from any other Tuesday since Val got her job at Sloppy Sam’s. She stood behind the bar, trading banter with the regulars and insults with their cook, affectionately called Gary the Grouch. Randy drifted from the bar to the door and back again, his hulking form a warning to anyone who might want to cause trouble.

But even Randy wasn’t prepared for the dainty woman who came traipsing through the front door of Sloppy Sam’s Bar and Grill at 6:17pm. She looked like a Hollywood socialite with perfect hair, flawless makeup, an elegant manicure, and designer clothes. Val recognized her instantly and dread clenched her stomach.

What the fuck is Tessa doing here?! She wondered, but she kept her face impassive. Conversations in the dining area and pool corner fell silent as the newcomer made her way to the bar, engrossed in something on her cell phone screen.

“What’ll it be, ma’am?” Val asked Tessa, one eyebrow raised.

“Oooo, um, I’m not really sure. Do you have a menu?” Tessa asked, glancing up from her iPhone in its bedazzled case.

Val slid her a greasy, laminated menu from the stack at the end of the bar. “Take yer time. Not from around here, are ya?”

“Heavens, no! Just passing through on the way to a gig in NYC. This seemed like a decent spot to have dinner…” Tessa put her phone away and really looked around Sloppy Sam’s for the first time. Scruffy regulars leered at her from corner booths and the pool table under its cloudy stained glass lamp. “I, um. Take it you don’t have new people come here often?”

“Not generally. Folks who come here usually know what they’re comin’ for. You plannin’ to order?”

“Um. Can you make a Cosmopolitan? And could I have a grilled chicken Caesar salad?”

“Comin’ right up.” Val shouted the salad order to Gary the Grouch.

“Who the fuck’s orderin’ a salad in here?” Gary protested.

“Chick from outta town. Ya got any lettuce?” Val started making the Cosmo with practiced ease.

“Wait a second. Do I know you from somewhere?” Tessa asked while Gary grumbled about how the damn salad didn’t include any of the four basic food groups in it.

“Ain’t got no beans, no whisky, no lard, no bacon–” he groused.

“Add some bacon to it, if that makes you feel better. She ain’t vegan if she’s orderin’ chicken,” Val yelled back to him before turning her attention to Tessa. “Highly doubt it.”

But she made the mistake of making eye contact with her ex-best friend as she told the lie, and both of them recognized it in an instant. Repressed memories flooded back through Val’s head in the space of mere seconds…

- - - - - - - 

Another triumphant performance of The Royal Ballet concluded to a standing ovation. Exhausted from a full week of performances, Valeria Taranova decided to skip the usual after-party and go home to see her boyfriend, Marcus. Tessa blew her a kiss on her way out, saying something about how Valeria and Marcus were destined to be together and she was sure he would propose soon.

But when she got home, Valeria found Marcus in her bed with a dancer from a rival ballet company. She’d never said anything that could earn a film a rating of PG-13 or worse before that night, but she called Marcus and his lover every name in the book that night as she packed up her things. Nothing Marcus said to her kept her from disappearing into the night with a single suitcase. By morning, she’d quit The Royal Ballet and booked a cross-country train trip, determined to never see Marcus or anyone from her former life who could put him in touch with her ever again. A stop in Chicago to see her sister Alyona resulted in a makeover that left Valeria unrecognizable–or so she thought. From that day on she was Val Thornton, the furthest thing from a ballet dancer she could imagine.

- - - - - - - 

“Valeria? Is that you?!” Tessa squealed. Every eye in Sloppy Sam’s turned towards her and Val. A cold sweat broke out on Val’s brow.

“What kinda name is Valeria?” Val spat out. “Here’s yer Cosmo. Drink up.”

“No, I swear it’s you! No one else I’ve met walks quite like you, or has that mole on your right cheek,” Tessa insisted. “Oh my God, what’s happened to you? I know you and Marcus had a bit of a row, but–”

Val walked away from Tessa to pour some beers for the regulars at the counter, hoping that maybe the ghosts of her past would disappear if she ignored them. But Tessa followed her.

“I swear you and Marcus are soul mates!” the bubbly blonde intruder went on. “He’s been sooooooooo totally torn up about losing  you. And of course, The Royal Ballet just hasn’t been the same without you.”

Marge poked her grizzled head out of her office by the pool table to see what was happening at the bar. Red-hot embarrassment and icy fear ran through Val’s veins. Tessa couldn’t destroy everything she’d built for herself. And if Marcus ended up finding her because of Tessa….

“Randy! Code Natty,” Val called towards the front door, in desperation.

“I’ll just call Marcus right now! He’ll be thrilled to learn I’ve found you, even if you don’t exactly look like you did when you–Hey!”

Randy snatched the iPhone right out of Tessa’s hand. “Causin’ problems?” he asked her rhetorically.

“I’m not doing any harm, sir. Give me my phone back,” Tessa demanded, unintimidated by Randy’s bulging muscles.

“’Fraid I can’t do that.” He tossed the phone behind the bar, where Val promptly stomped on it and then blasted it with pressurized soda.

“Hey! You can’t do that! That was an iPhone 15 plus!” Tessa protested. “You’ll be buying me a new one–”

“Fat chance.” A couple of Randy’s friends came up to the bar, closing Tessa in. For the first time since she arrived, her doll-like features contorted with panic.

“You messed with our Val. And no one messes with The Chaos Cruisers,” Marge’s gravelly voice said behind Val. Randy and his friends cracked their knuckles.

Val turned the hockey game up loud and started washing dishes as Randy cocked his fist and Tessa screamed.

***~O~***

“So. Did you really used to be a prissy twinkletoes ballerina?” Randy asked Val with a smirk as he leaned against the bar.

“Does it matter? You see what I am now, an’ I don’t go diggin’ into whatever skeletons might be in your closet,” Val retorted.

“She’s got ya there, Randy. Leave her be,” Marge advised as she dragged the overflowing trash can towards the back door and the dumpster.

Randy took another drag from his cigarette as Val scrubbed blood off the bar. “S’pose you’re right,” he sighed with a cloud of noxious smoke. “None of our pasts matter. We’re here now.”

“Good man,” Val nodded. A few moments passed in companionable silence. “Thank you.”