“Two strawberry daiquiris and a mimosa?” Anon asked as he stopped by what he hoped was the right table.
As the ponies smiled and nodded up at him, he began dispensing their drinks from the serving tray he was carrying. He’d had his misgivings when Celestia had told him she wanted to try her hand at bartending, but things had been working out better than expected. The little tavern was absolutely packed, everypony was enjoying themselves, and everything had been going off without a hitch.
Turning away from the table, he looked back and slipped the empty platter under his arm. “Just wave me down if you need anything.”
He turned his attention back to the bar and proudly grinned. Celestia may not have been the fastest bartender in the world, but damned if she wasn’t good at it. Over the course of less than an hour, she’d raked in several hundred bits just in tips - of course, it helped that she was wearing a tightly-fitted tank top and booty shorts, but this was one of the few settings where the questionable attire was completely appropriate.
Walking around the bar, he made his way to her side. “Holding it down?”
She nodded as she held a card of cocktail recipes up to her face. “Just trying to figure out what a sangria is…”
“Step aside,” he asserted. “I know how to make these.”
“You do?” she asked with a note of surprise.
Turning and snatching a bottle of brandy and bottle of triple sec from the shelves of liquor behind him, he motioned over at a small rack sitting by the miniature refrigerator under the bar. “Grab a bottle of red wine for me.”
She shuffled over, squatted down, and followed his instructions, though she hesitated when she went to hand him the bottle. “Will merlot work?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” he replied, uncapping and pouring a measure of the brandy and orange liquor into a large pitcher. After setting the bottles down, he took the proffered wine and plucked a corkscrew from beneath the bartop. “I used to make this stuff for my buddies in college.”
Walking up behind him, she rested her breasts against his back and watched him work. “Maybe you should be back here mixing drinks while I -”
“Oooooooh no,” he nervously laughed. “You stay back here.”
He wasn’t thrilled that she was being eyed up by most of the customers ordering drinks, but having her sling cocktails from behind the physical barrier that was the bar itself meant she was safe from being felt up by patrons. All things considered, he wasn’t too apprehensive about the setup. A pair of bouncers lingered just outside, he was keeping an eye on her, and there were another two ponies working as servers - in short, unless somepony got absolutely trashed, there shouldn’t be any problems.
“Lemonade, orange juice, simple syrup, ice, and last but not least,” he theatrically announced as he tossed in several maraschino cherries and orange slices. “Boom!”
Celestia studied the pitcher and scrunched her snout. “They only ordered a glass though.”
“Yeah, but this stuff keeps,” he chuckled.
Lifting her eyes up to his face, she cocked her head. “Is it good?”
“You tell me,” he insisted, pouring and offering her a glass of the sangria.
She reluctantly took the beverage and lifted it to her snout. “They did say we could help ourselves to a drink or two. Cheers?”
“Cheers,” he affirmed, lifting and clinking a glass of lemonade he’d stashed behind the bar against her drink.
Taking a small sip of her beverage, she balked and stared down at her glass. “That’s…that’s really, really good!”
“Thanks,” he hummed, pleased with himself. “Just be careful. Those things have a way of sneaking up on you.”
He would have stayed and chatted with her for longer, but neither of them could stop what they were doing to idly stand around and chit-chat. Customers were practically pouring in, there were glasses to refill, and orders to take. Giving her a thumbs up, he took up a notepad and pressed out into the seating area.
Things were going more smoothly than he would have dared to hope - almost too smoothly. Patrons came and went, everypony was relatively well-behaved, and it was busy enough to make the time sail by. He wouldn’t have guessed that Celestia would find her calling serving booze, but stranger things had happened.
Returning to the bar for the umpteenth time, he glanced up at a clock on the wall and frowned. “If you need a break, just -”
“Anon!” she bleated, surging forward and snaring him in a bear hug. “Anon, I need your help.”
He craned his neck upward and peeked up at her, taken aback by the sudden show of affection. “Is something wrong?”
“Your darn right something’s wrong,” she grumbled, keeping his head sandwiched between her bosoms. Maintaining her iron-like embrace, she turned and scowled. “I can’t get it right…”
Writhing in her grasp, he peeked back and went motionless. The pitcher of sangria he’d made was empty, and something told him that it hadn’t been drained by customers. As he looked back up at her, only then detecting the smell of alcohol on her breath, he swallowed hard. She could and often was a handful while sober, but if she was sloshed…
“Please tell me you didn’t have all that,” he moaned.
She emphatically shook her head and pulled his face deeper into her cleavage. “Nuh-uh, not that one…”
His hair stood on end and a cold sweat beaded his brow. “That one…?”
Taking him by the shoulders, she extracted him from her bust and turned him to face the bar. “I tried to make more of the stuff, but it wasn’t as good as yours.”
The implications of one empty pitcher would have been bone-chilling, seeing two would have put his nerves on edge, and finding three would send him into a panic, but there were four - four empty pitchers thrown into the sink. Rounding on her, he nervously licked his lips. He’d only ever seen her drunk on one occasion that he could recall, and that night had been so insane that Luna had wiped virtually all of the details from his memory.
“Water,” he stated. Whipping around, he filled a glass from the tap and urgently presented it to her. “Drink some water and go stretch your legs for -”
“But I want more sangria,” she whined. Her petulant demeanor was fleeting and shifted in an instant to indignation as she glared down at him. “I order you to make more…”
“Celestia, come on,” he pleaded. “They said we could have a few drinks on the house -”
“I only had three - actually, more like two and a half,” she interrupted, slurring her words ever so slightly. “Anon, won’t you make some for me? Please!”
She might not have been completely shit-faced, but she’d definitely had a few too many. Stuck in what was a very delicate situation, he put his mind to work and inched closer to her. As long as he could get her hydrated and prevent her from downing any more hooch, she should sober up pretty quickly.
He clasped hands with her and willed himself to smile. “At the end of our shift, I’ll make you a whole pitcher of top-shelf sangria ~ alright?”
Her eyes narrowed as she stared down at him. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart,” he replied as he freed a hand to draw an X over his sternum.
“Fine,” she relented.
As happy as he was going to get under the circumstances, he went to depart then stopped dead in his tracks. She may have been able to follow recipes and make simple drinks, but leaving her by her lonesome, even if he wasn’t that far away, seemed like an extremely bad idea. He threw up a hand and waved at one of his fellow servers, going on a wing and a prayer that he’d be able to avoid a catastrophe.
“Can you manage the floor?” he asked the waiter.
The server, a younger mare, gave him a confused look and reluctant nod. “I’m guessing you’re gonna keep an eye on -”
“Anon!” Celestia shouted, tearing his attention away from his coworker. “Anon, this young stallion just gave me the most wondrous suggestion!”
Anon shared a knowing look with the waitress before shifting and facing Celestia. “And what sort of wondrous suggestion was it?”
“We can make so - Hic - so much money if we have a wet t-shirt contest,” she imperiously and rather joyously declared. “Gimme your shirt…”
Batting her hands away as she pawed at his collar. “First of all, hell no - secondly, you’re wearing a shirt already!”
She faltered and gazed down at her monumental rack. “It’s a tank top, not a shirt; there’s a difference, Anon.”
“Just - oh, I know,” he exclaimed, stricken with divine inspiration. Leaning over the bar and grabbing an unoccupied stool, he lifted and placed the piece of furniture beside him. “How about you sit here and watch me make a few drinks? You might just learn something.”
“Nuh,” she protested, coming behind him and using his head as a makeshift boob rest. “I’m gonna stand here, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
The weight of her breasts bearing down his skull was only outmatched by the burden she presented as a whole. Nopony appeared to mind her antics, the tip jar was already overflowing, and it wasn’t like there were any foals around for her to set a bad example for, but that didn’t mean his job was going to be any easier. Picking up the first ticket on the string of orders, he reached for a bottle of rum.
Shifting slightly, she slid her tits over his shoulder and pointed at the cocktail he was working on. “What’s that?”
“A mojito,” he grunted, muddling some mint with lime and simple syrup.
She reached for the tumbler in his grip and attempted to pry it from his clutches. “I wanna shake it…”
Relinquishing his hold, he allowed her to take the shaker. “Don’t spill it.”
“Woo!” she hooted, straightening up and capping the tumbler. “Why didn’t we do this sooner, Anon?!”
He could think of two big, bouncing reasons why they hadn’t done this sooner, although he was probably the only soul on the premises who took umbrage with the show she was unwittingly putting on. Though her technique was lacking and anything but professional, her zeal and the spectacle of a wobbling, drunkenly dancing Princess animatedly mixing a drink made up for her deficit of skill. Spinning and almost losing her balance, she presented the shaker to him.
“Here you - wait,” she groused. Flipping the cap and helping herself to a sip, she smacked her lips and shivered. “That’s amazing! Anon, we should have those sometime!”
“Uh-huh, sure,” he growled, wrenching the shaker from her hands. Pouring the drinks and setting them on a serving tray with the ticket, he moved to the next order. “We can knock a few back after we take care of everypony.”
Celestia had been about to say something, her mouth open and finger held up, but then a look of jubilation crossed her face. “Attention everypony,” she blared, “drinks are on the house!”
The entire bar went so silent that you could hear a pin drop, her proclamation upending every conversation and bringing everypony to a literal standstill, although the hushed stillness only lasted for a fleeting second. In nearly perfect unison, the patrons began shouting and singing the ex-Princess’ praises. It was chaos that came just shy of being an all out riot, and it quickly overwhelmed the Anon and the few staff members who were actually doing their jobs.
At least two of the servers left, removing their aprons and joining the mindless, jubilant throng, while a third defenestrated himself through an open window. The one silver lining was that everypony was in a good mood, elated that their beloved alicorn had displayed her generosity, yet that could change at any moment. If there was one thing Anon felt damn sure of, it was how volatile large groups could be when there was copious amounts of alcohol involved.
“You know we’re gonna get fired for this ~ right?” he snarled, trying and failing to rein in his flaring temper.
Waving away his concern, Celestia unsteadily arranged a row of shot glasses on the bar and filled them with rum. “There are plenty of bits in the royal coffers.”
“I’m sure there are, but there’s just one tiny issue,” he continued. Waiting until he had her attention, he grimaced. “You’re not a Princess any more…”
“I…oh shoot,” she muttered, practically sobering up before his eyes. Peering out over the crowd, she cupped her hands to her mouth. “Bottom shelf only! One shot per customer!”
It wasn’t a perfect solution, but spending a few hundred bits on liquor was better than hemorrhaging several thousand. Considering most, if not all of the patrons had already been drinking, and that to renege on the promised drinks would do nothing but court disaster, Anon put himself to task by distributing shots of the cheapest gut-rot available. To her credit, and in spite of her making a few spills, Celestia didn’t leave him to do all the work by his lonesome.
By the time everypony had been served their gratis shot, on top of handling orders for cider, beer, wine, and cocktails that continued to roll in before closing time, Anon was exhausted on every conceivable level. His uniform was drenched in sweat, he hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch, and he was ironically parched, yet the only thing he longed for was a shower and a bed to collapse in. Wearily watching as the final customers stumbled out, he sighed.
“Sorry about that,” Celestia whispered, wiping down the bar and refusing to look at him.
He reached over and gave her a well-earned pat on the upper arm. “It’s fine. I think the tips we made will cover most of the booze we went through.”
Lifting a bottle of cider to her lips, she wavered. “Anon, can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he replied. Kneeling down and taking a bottle of cider for himself, he gazed up at her. “What’s up?”
“Do…do you think I’m cut out for this?” she softly inquired. “Not necessarily the bartending thing, but just - you know, being anything other than a Princess…”
He grunted as he stood and chuckled. “Honestly, that’s just silly. You’re one of the kindest, most capable ponies I’ve ever met, and I know - know you could do anything you put your mind to. It’s not your fault that the world wasn’t made for you, and I’ll have words with anypony who says otherwise.”
“It’s just…” she trailed off and hung her head. “It’s just discouraging.”
Stepping over, he gently stroked her forearm. “I’m sure it is, but you’ve got me to kick around until we find the right thing for you.”
As she peered into her eyes, a smile crept across her muzzle. “I…thank you, Anon. That means more than you know…”
“Don’t mention it,” he laughed, shying back to playfully tap his fist to her bicep. “Just don’t forget me when you become Equestria’s next big neurosurgeon or - Gah!”
With startling speed, she shifted, sank to one knee, and snared him in a hug. “I would never…”
There was a slight waver in her voice, and she was still at least a little bit tipsy, but that gave him all the more reason to return her embrace. Hugging her neck, he rested his cheek to her collar. She really was an amazing mare, one of the best, and the feeling of being held by her was only eclipsed by the fact that she appreciated him.
“Hey,” he began, wriggling free and grinning from ear to ear, “after we lock up, you want to get something to eat after we’re done? I’m pretty sure I saw a Hayburger down the road.”
With a smile that met her eyes, she took up her cleaning rag and rose to her feet. “Sounds like a plan, little buddy…”