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I am sure there is some axiom out there that praises the merits of a hard working man. But speaking as one of those aforementioned men, all I can say is some of us work under the constant strain of being tired. After working the night shift at Red 84's bar, I usually have just enough time to grab four or five hours worth of sleep before I need to head to my next job. Lately it's been posing for a local up-and-comer who pays his models pretty well. He is also a little touchy for my taste. I don't suppose it would be so bad if the fucker would do something more then just touch. Nothing like going to your next job frustrated.

"Christ Almighty, JT! Watch what you are doing!" Barked Peter. I had been cutting limes and managed to slice my finger. A well of blood oozed over the lime's green rind. I suppose this makes a case in point about being tired.

"Where is your head?" Peter wanted to know while pressing a towel to my finger.

"Relax, it's not bad." Which was a truth I shouldn't know. I mean, I had always healed better and faster then most. And other then the slice stinging because it was full of lime juice, I could already feel a change in it. Sure enough, when Peter pulled the towel back, I had already stopped bleeding.

"Why is it so light in color?" He mused aloud.

"I am anemic." I lied smoothly then turned to put a Band-Aid on the cut and went back to cutting the case of limes.

It wasn't long before the DJ cut the piped in music and the house band started to play. Bodies began to pack the dance floor and my station was starting to fill with the regulars. Faces that I had been looking at for months, attached to personalities about as interesting as wet paint. Still, they were nice enough people and I tried to avoid them where more intimate matters were concerned.

"Hey sugar." Purred one of the newer regulars. She had one arm tucked under her ample breasts and was leaning forward on the bar, trying to get my attention.

"Jasmine." I smiled devilishly. "What'll it be tonight?"

"Can I have a Screaming Orgasm?" While I broke into a huge knowing smile for her sake, I was really wondering if people thought that line worked.

"Coming right up." I winked and turned to pull down vodka, Bailey's Irish Cream and Kahlua.

"JT!"

"Jimmy boy! How are you tonight?" I asked while sliding Jasmine's drink into her hand. She pressed a bill into my palm and, huskily, told me to keep the change.

"3 Beers!" His voice raised over the sound of the music and crowd.

"Comin' right up."

"So what does JT stand for?" He inquired. He hadn't been the first. To date, no one has gotten an honest answer from me.

"Jackson Tyler." The first names that came to mind passed my grinning lips.

"Oi! You said it was James Tyron last week," Injected one of the other regulars.

"I did?" My impish grin had them all groaning and then tossing out some of the worst possible J & T names they could come up with.

"Sorry folks, some things are best left secret."











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