Chapter 10: Weapons Are the Guarantee of a Civilized Person

Faced with different people at different times, Martin used different ways to deal with them.

He put a $7 tip in front of Vincent.

Vincent pushed it back and said, "Tips belong to the individual." He then directly asked, "How many types of cocktails can you make?"

Martin stopped beating around the bush and said, "I can make all the common cocktails. I can't say my skill is top-notch, but at least it's average."

In the past, he practiced hard to compete for a bartender role. Although he didn't get the role, he never gave up on making good drinks because he enjoyed it. It became a skill he accumulated over the years.

Vincent asked, "Ways to save costs without affecting the taste too badly?"

Martin got into the zone: "I can ensure that some drinks have higher profitability."

While earning tips, he always observed carefully. Female customers paid attention to the stage, and the drinks were just to add to the fun. They weren't picky about the taste.

As long as he ensured the basic taste, there wouldn't be any problems.

Even a civilized person could sell poorly made drinks.

Vincent's face suddenly turned grim: "Are you like that scumbag Jack?"

"Vincent, a powerful person like you, even if you lent me ten times the courage, I still wouldn't dare to deceive you." Martin humbly turned into a respectful nobody: "Even that old scumbag Jack was exposed under your wise leadership. There's no way I can hide anything from your eyes."

Vincent was quite pleased and said, "You're now the bartender at 'Beast House,' 8 dollars an hour, paid bi-weekly, with debt settled at each payday."

The most important income for this job was tips.

Having his abilities recognized, Martin cautiously tested the waters: "Since I'm a member of the club, the interest..."

Vincent thought for a moment and said, "We'll only calculate the total interest, no compound interest. Pay back another 7000 dollars, and your debt is cleared."

Martin felt slightly relieved; this way, he could first see if there were any opportunities with the Marietta troupe.

"The condition is that I need to see your value!" Compared to his bartending skills, Vincent valued Martin's method with Long Island Iced Tea more.

Martin needed the money: "When do I start working?"

Vincent casually pointed to the bar: "Right now."

Martin didn't say more and entered the bar. A customer was just asking for a Bloody Mary.

It's one of the most famous cocktails with many variations. Martin took the tools from Bruce and used a modified recipe popular among Americans after 2010.

It was said to suit American tastes better.

It might match the female customer's taste buds, as she immediately tipped him $2.

Bruce leaned in and quietly asked, "Got the boss's approval?"

"In a civilized way," Martin joked first and then said, "I thought you were the club's security."

Bruce shook his head: "Times have changed. There's no future in violence. To adapt, I put down my gun and learned bartending. It's not just me; even the boss is learning to run legal businesses."

A woman came over for a drink, so Martin focused on work without talking more.

In no time, the tips totaled over $15. Customers came and went, but the number never exceeded fifty, limiting his ability to earn more tips.

During a break, Martin asked, "Is business always like this every day?"

Bruce, wiping glasses, said, "It's a bit better on weekends. The club just opened, and its reputation hasn't really taken off yet."

Martin was surprised: "No advertising?"

Bruce smiled like a civilized man: "You didn't know? Well, it's understandable; you don't get it."

Getting looked down upon by a 'paper-licking maniac,' Martin didn't get angry but instead asked, "What do you mean?"

Bruce adjusted his shirt, looking scholarly: "Georgia state regulations prohibit clubs from advertising in media and public spaces. The boss spent money on job ads as a workaround."

Martin looked around at the empty club: "Not very effective?"

Bruce diligently wiped glasses and bottles: "The boss said the club is running a legitimate business and must follow the laws and regulations."

Of course, Martin didn't believe that. Legal loan-sharking? Or running a legal joint to launder money?

The music played, and the men on the circular stage performed in unison, giving Martin some downtime to intermittently ask Bruce about the situation.

Vincent invested heavily in the 'Beast House,' hiring male dancers with high salaries, engaging a professional choreographer from Savannah College of Art and Design, and paying a public relations expert for promotion.

Nearly a month after opening, there were some customers, but far from the expected goals.

By the end of the night, Martin made $21 in tips.

Leaving the club, Martin headed to the minibus station adorned with many small taxi ads.

A few dozen meters out, two dreadlocked black men dressed in black suddenly emerged from a dark spot under a broken streetlight.

They had strong inherent skills, hiding in the dark where it was hard to notice them from a distance.

Martin didn't hesitate and turned to run. The two men immediately chased after him.

Bruce, also off work, came towards Martin, his open jacket flapping. He reached under his arm, pulling out a gun and aiming it forward, shouting, "Get lost!"

The black men stopped, raised their hands, and took steps backward.

Martin saw clearly that both men had knives in their hands.

The black men retreated far enough before turning and running away.

Martin realized he had completely misunderstood Bruce and said, "Old Bruce, I must be an idiot. It's only now I understand why you flash your gun when acting civilized."

Bruce holstered his gun and said, "This is the guarantee of a civilized person."

Martin said, "Can I catch a ride? 5 dollars."

Bruce walked toward a Dodge pickup truck parked by the roadside: "We're comrades. No charge."

Martin didn't hesitate and hopped into the passenger seat, saying, "I'll find a way to get you a bunch of autographed photos to satisfy your needs."

Bruce started the truck and drove towards Marietta in the northwest: "That's a great idea."

Martin was thoroughly defeated.

Bruce added, "Here's a suggestion: You need a car and a gun."

Martin asked, "Is it easy to get a gun?"

Bruce nodded, "Gun laws in Georgia aren't strict. It's easy to buy a gun through legal channels. I wouldn't suggest buying an illegal one--it comes with lots of trouble."

He then laughed heartily, "Want to buy and practice shooting? I have a firearm instructor's license. I only charge $10 an hour. I also know a second-hand car dealer. Need an introduction? Let me earn a little commission."

Well, free really is the most expensive! No wonder he waived the car fare. Martin showed a middle finger: "You sly businessman!"

He had to buy a second-hand car, just in case things went south and he needed to escape.

Martin found that ever since his head cleared up, he spent a lot of time thinking about escape plans.

A shitty life for a shitty runaway!

*****

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