Tough Luck Read Online Free PDF

index finger. He looked at his finger, surprised to see how much blood was flowing out of it.
    “Fuck,” Mickey said.
    Harry, at the other end of the counter, looked over.
    “Jesus,” Harry said. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
    “The knife slipped,” Mickey said.
    “Slipped?” Harry said. “Don’t you know how to cut a fucking fish?”
    Now there was blood all over the counter and on the fish.
    “Are you okay?” the girl asked.
    “Yeah,” Mickey said. “Fine.” He didn’t care about his finger, he just couldn’t believe he’d made such a fool of himself.
    “Look what you did,” Harry said to Mickey. “You know how much this costs? Go clean this up—right now.”
    Mickey wound up his finger in the corner of his apron, then he went toward the kitchen, mumbling, “Fuck you.”
    “What was that?” Harry said.
    “Nothing,” Mickey said.
    “I thought I heard you say something,” Harry said.
    “I didn’t say anything,” Mickey said.
    Charlie must have come out from the back in time to hear what had happened because Charlie said to Harry, “It wasn’t his fault.”
    “Was I talking to you, Budinsky?” Harry said. “Why don’t you get back to work and mind your own fuckin’ business, all right?”
    “I just think that shit ain’t right,” Charlie said. “The knife slipped—it was an accident.”
    Mickey had stopped near the entrance to the back. As Charlie and Harry continued to argue, the girl came over toward Mickey and said, “Is it very deep?”
    “It’s not too bad,” Mickey said.
    Looking at Mickey’s finger, the girl cringed. “Ooh, that looks bad. You might need stitches.”
    “It’ll be okay.”
    “You better wash it out and put peroxide on it.”
    “Yeah, you’re probably right,” Mickey said.
    Mickey went through the doors to the back of the store, to the bathroom and washed out the wound in the sink. In the dusty cabinet above the sink, there was no peroxide, but there was an old box of little Band-Aids. Mickey used a few of the bandages to cover the wound on his finger, but they didn’t stop the bleeding. Maybe the girl was right about needing stitches.
    With his hand around the injured finger, putting pressure on it, Mickey left the bathroom. Charlie had returned from the front of the store, but he looked angry and upset. He started cleaning the knives and cutting boards in the sink.
    “Thanks for sticking up for me like that,” Mickey said. “But you didn’t have to do that.”
    “Hey, somebody had to say something,” Charlie said. “That shit was wrong.”
    “Yeah, but you know nothing you say’s gonna help.”
    “You’re right,” Charlie said. “Harry’s just a fuckin’ asshole, and he treats us like we the shit that comes outta it.”
    “Watch out,” Mickey said. “He might hear you.”
    “I don’t give a shit if the man hears me or not,” Charlie said. “Let him hear me.”
    Mickey returned to the main part of the store, through the swinging doors. He wanted to talk to the girl again and apologize for the big scene he had caused, but he saw that she was gone. Only Harry was in the store, sitting on a stool by the cash register.
    “What’re you doing, standing there?” Harry said to Mickey. “Go clean up your mess.”
    Mickey hesitated then took a moist rag and started cleaning up the blood.
    “What happened to that girl?” Mickey asked.
    “What girl?” Harry said.
    “The one who was just here.”
    “Oh, her. What do you think happened to her? She left. You probably disgusted her.”
    Harry laughed, walking away, then he turned back toward Mickey and said, “Why do you want to know, anyway?”
    “Know what?” Mickey said, although he knew exactly what Harry meant.
    “Come on,” Harry said, “a pretty girl like that would never go for a guy like you, and you know it.”
    Harry started laughing again, belly-laughing, as if he thought he was the funniest guy in the world. Mickey finished cleaning up, pretending to