> "...How long has it been?"
> "Ten minutes, Gilda. It's been ten minutes since I let you behind the counter. Don't worry about me, or the time - just do your best. Make sure that your best is better than all those other times though, for fuck's sake."
> It had truly been only ten minutes as impromptu barkeep and already Gilda was losing her cool
> At 8 in the morning, when the bar opened, there wasn't even a soul in yet. The usual crowd started to flood in around just after noon or so for their usual lunchtime cravings and whatnot
> You assumed since there were no coffee or espresso machines lying around in the building that ponies typically went elsewhere to start their busy mornings
> Yet here this massive, hulking griffon was, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane 
> You clasp her withers with a firm hand, causing her to whip around on the spot with a 'H-hey, watch it!'
> Typical
> "Gilda, you've gotta relax. You're not going to be able to serve any drinks with those Parkinson's shudders you've got. Take it easy, there hasn't even been a-"
> At that moment some stallion you've never seen before passes through the wooden double doors and makes his way slowly up to the counter
> You decide to take a backseat and slink away to the far corner of the bar's back wall, leaning up against it and stuffing your hands in your pockets in some attempt to fade into the background
> Gilda should at least be able to handle her first customer; you've shown her everything she needs to know
> How to take orders, how to mix drinks, how to operate the register, etc.
> You were very deliberate and methodical in how you taught her, and made sure she parroted everything you did at least twice before you moved on to the next thing, much to her frustration
> 'I'm not a baby, I've got it!' she would scream, proceeding to then struggle to mimic what you'd shown her only seconds earlier, which amused you greatly
> "W-welcome to 'The Last Bit', where we... uh..." The stallion fixed her with a curious look and as she trailed off she turned her head to the side to search wildly around with her eyes for you, or so you thought
> She finally saw you and sort of jerked her head towards the guy a few times, clearly asking for your help
> You shrug your shoulders and mouth 'You got this' in her direction
> She frowns and huffs a frustrated sigh before turning back around 
> "...Where we serve drinks and... stuff?" 
> The stallion raises a brow at the vague description of the bar's services before he sidles up to the counter and takes a seat on one of the barstools, taking one of the plastic menus in his hooves and leafing through it
> He was a subdued cerulean with a darker blue mane, and his cutie mark wasn't visible but you could've sworn you'd seen the guy around somewhere before
> He clears his throat, shifting Gilda's attention from glaring at her claws on the ground to glaring at the poor guy, who shrank back noticeably under her scrutiny 
> "H-hey there, didn't know they had any griffons working here in Ponyville now. You new around town?" 
> Gilda stood up on her hind legs and crossed her arms, which didn't help to make the tiny stallion (compared to her) feel any more comfortable
> "What, have you been living under a rock? I've been hanging around this dump for almost two months now, and you must be blind if you've never seen an awesome, crazy-cool griffon strutting around." She seemed satisfied with herself and dropped back down to all fours, which would have served to make the stallion feel a little less on edge had he not been insulted just now 
> "O-oh." is the reply he squeaked out, and he buried his nose further into the menu, at a distance which surely he couldn't actually read any of the menu's items 
> A few seconds later, however, he cleared his throat again
> "Could you tell me what's in this here 'Virgin Larry'?"
> Gilda shrugged
> "I dunno. Maybe some fish guts, or some ape brain." She snickered to herself and you rolled your eyes in her direction
> What a fucking child. Was that supposed to be funny?
> The stallion's eyes widened like saucers and he lowered his face back to the menu without a word
> He spoke up again after a few more minutes of relative silence
> "I-I'll just have a water..."
> Gilda sighed and began to search the counter for a mug, taking up the stallion's menu and sliding it neatly into a stack of them just below the countertop 
> With a deftness only a creature with opposable thumbs could muster, she very quickly pulled a decanter of room-temperature water from a shelf of drinks on the back wall and poured the mug right to the brim, though she managed to keep from spilling a drop in the process, which got a brow raise from you 
> She might actually make for a decent bartender if she can get that attitude under control
> She slid the decanter back onto the shelf and placed the mug down in front of the stallion, making him jump a little in his seat 
> "One water, take it or leave it!" She said with a smirk, clearly rather satisfied with her performance of an elementary barkeeper's task
> The blue stallion took one look at the mug and gestured to it with his hoof
> "Could I get some ice with that, please?"
> Gilda's smile evaporated in a second and her face twisted into an awful frown
> "What, not COLD enough for you, lame-o? You asked for water, and you got water - now pay up!" Gilda held her clawed hand out and made a 'come hither' motion, to which you groaned in exasperation
> You wanted to explain that putting ice in water was standard stuff considering there wasn't anything that could be diluted, but you held your tongue and decided to let her crash this vehicle herself
> Biting his lip, the stallion nervously fished around for some change and plopped down two bits on the countertop, almost pleading with his eyes for the griffon to leave him be to enjoy his room-temperature drink 
> Gilda wasn't having it, though, and kept making the gesture. "And what about my tip, huh? You just gonna let all this hard work go to waste?" 
> It was clear that panic had now set in for the stallion, as he hurriedly emptied a few more bits out on the counter and promptly stood up from his seat, slowly backing away from the counter 
> "H-here, this is all I've got left. I don't even want the water, just-" He whimpered a little and broke into a mad gallop out of the bar, "-leave me alone!"
> The unruly griffon stood, mouth agape, as her first and only customer threw some change at her and bolted 
> One slow clap later, you finally removed yourself from your post on the wall and moseyed over to Gilda, who was still confused by the whole exchange for some reason
> "I've gotta say, that was a pretty impressive display - not only did you convince him that you deserved a tip despite the position having full wages, you also scared him away from his shitty warm mug of water, meaning you were basically just paid to scream at the guy and extort him out of his remaining bits. I think I should promote you from 'middle-school bully' to 'alleyway thug' with a performance like that." 
> "Ha ha ha", she said very deliberately as she cast you an annoyed glance from over her furred shoulders. "You're a riot, you know that? Maybe you should quit the bar gig and become a comedian! If you can't make ponies laugh because of your jokes, you can just show them that big ugly face of yours and that should do the trick!"
> You thwack her on the head with a pen you'd fished from your pocket, much to her dismay, and gesture to the now-empty bar
> "You really think you can convince me you're better at this than I am by treating our customers like that? Seriously, you gave him a WARM water. Who does that? Would you drink a warm water?"
> Gilda might've had a response to that, but she swallowed it pretty quickly after a few sips of the mug she'd poured for the stallion 
> "...Okay, I see your point. But still, did you see the way he talked back to me? It was like he didn't realize he was talking to THE owner of the bar, you know? Way disrespectful."
> Fucking what
> "Gilda, he asked you very politely to give him what is fucking standard for a glass of water in the first place and you blew up in his face and bullied him out of the rest of his cash. What about any of that makes you think you were in the right?" 
> Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to think of a response, but it seemed wasn't coming, so you take the mug from her claws and dump the water out in the sink behind you before placing it back down on the counter, overturned with the rest of the clean mugs
> "Well Gilda, I hope you can match that stellar performance with these three coming in now."

> The rest of the day proceeds much how you thought it was going to, which filled you with a guilty little sense of joy being right and all
> Gilda had no idea how to talk to customers, and with every curious face that came in, an insulted or terrified face left shortly afterward
> A couple of ponies, the regulars mostly, had a bit to toss back in her face when she got uppity, which surprised her and put her off her game considerably 
> Well, if she had any in the first place
> Some insults were thrown back and forth towards the end of the night between her and a good, longtime patron of the bar, Berry Punch, and you nearly had to step in to break up what might've been a fight if Berry Punch herself hadn't been such a desperate virgin beverage-aholic
> She was about two seconds from tossing her drink in Gilda's face, but decided to down the rest of it in one big angry gulp and storm out of the bar instead, which was a much better outcome than you expected
> You were going to call it there, but decided to just let things play out and see how she would handle closing time
> Turns out she handled as shittily as everything else
> More yelling, entitlement, some broken glasses and many, many dissatisfied customers
> You were sure you would have lost some regulars if you hadn't told them of what was going on beforehand, which you were told to do by the boss when you ran the idea by him last night 
> By the end of the night, Gilda was at her wit's end, and everything seemed to get her to freak out
> At the moment, she was trying to count the register down and kept dropping bits everywhere, prompting a few swears from her as she had to bend down and scrape the stray bits up from between the counter's cracks 
> You're positive the register will end up short, but you decide that you'll cover it when she's done to avoid any angry bosses breathing down your neck
> After she finishes, she plops down on her lion rump and claws at her head feathers with barely-contained frustration
> "Gah! How can you even DO something so irritating every single day? These ponies are the lamest bunch of losers I've ever met, and I can't please them no matter what I try to do. And you"- she points in your direction -"were no help at all! Didn't you see that old pegasus stallion giving me crap for mixing his drink wrong? Why didn't you say anything?" 
> You scoff, your fingers idly tapping against the grain of the bar counter
> "What, you expected me tell off my very much insulted regulars because you don't know how to talk to people without making them want to spit in your eye? The ponies that live here are, for the most part, pretty chill and I don't understand why you get under their skin like that for no reason. You don't even have to make conversation with them - you literally pour their drinks, take their pay, and leave them alone to drown their sorrows or whatever the fuck. Why is that so hard for you to understand?" 
> "Well maybe I WOULD understand if you bothered to train me right! You know what?" Gilda rips the adorable little apron you'd thrown on her at the beginning of her shift off and stomps it into dust with her paws before continuing. "I'm sick of this dump, and I'm sick of YOU, so I quit! See you later, loser!"
> Gilda flaps her wings once and jets off, over the counter and straight through the door, shattering it into splinters 
> You facepalm, both at the fact that she 'quit' a position she wasn't actually hired for and she once again has forced you to have to fix something 
> Fucking griffons