Jason was paid by the day, directly from the till. He paid no taxes, no Medicare levy, but his pay was reduced accordingly. He had accumulated a few hundred dollars and felt good about that. It felt like real money, not some magical credit to his bank account from dividends or bond coupons. He'd had jobs before, but more because he was supposed to than because he'd had to. Even then, though, the job at the pub in England hadn't lasted that long. He realised that he might have to go on working for the rest of his life. And though he found it hard to imagine 'the rest of his life', he had found to his surprise that he enjoyed the job. True, there were the occasional arseholes, and there was always the tedium of wiping down surfaces, stacking the dishwashers, sweeping and tidying. But there was also Keith, who was funny and tough, and could easily humiliate a difficult patron with a few well-chosen words and a tough mien which kept all but the drunkest or most aggressive patrons in check. If “take your sodding wankiness outside, sister” didn't work, Keith would fetch Tom, who would reach under the counter for his baseball bat, and stride forth like a leather-and-chain-clad bikie, ruthless, tough and foul-mouthed. The best times, though, were after The Lord Grey had closed, and he and Keith and Esmé were sitting over a coffee (and sometimes a brandy) talking about life and their part in it.
Majorca Flats Episodes 81 to 90