Tales from the Boobie Bar!
This one guy squicked me the hell out.
My bar opens at 3pm during the week. Dancers that arrive before 3 to get ready have to use the side entrance. However, we park in the general parking lot where the customers also park. When I work at 3pm, I generally arrive at 2:30 so I have time to get changed, do the last parts of my makeup, and do stretches before I start.
When I got there at 2:30 the other day, there was a car with two customers in it in the lot. I parked at the other end of the lot and went in.
3pm arrives, the customers come in, and I go up onstage. I go around to them after my set.
Me=*ta-da*
G=The guy
Me=*goes around, dancedancesmilesmile*
G=*watches me dance a bit, tips me, then:* So, you're in a high school band?
Me=...o.O I'm 25, so that's a no.
G=Oh! Because your car has a plate on the front that says Buckingham Strings.
Me=Nooo it doesn't.
G=Yes it does! I was watching you.
Me=...o.o No, it really doesn't. (*side note: the plate on the front says B.ham SPRINGS. It's my husbands grandfathers old car x)*)
G=Guess I'll have to go look at it again! Hawhaw!
Me=...
I move on. A little while later, the friend he was with got a marathon stretch of couch dances from another girl (his friend is a regular). Guy decides that couch dances look like fun, and wants one from me. Okay, fine. So I take him back.
Hello and welcome to todays installment of "The Longest Four Minutes EVER".
See, a lot of times, when guys get dances they're very, very quiet. They watch, appreciate, and don't say much. Which is fine, it leaves me to daydream or make grocery lists in my head while I shake my ass around. This makes the four minutes one dance takes go rather quickly for me. And sometimes, you get guys that want to chat, which is also fine-that also helps the time go quickly, and can be quite interesting besides.
It's all about subject matter, though. For instance, I find it somewhat creepy when the patron tells me all about his 'beautiful grandkids' while having a nubile 20-something dancing about half-naked in front of him. And I find it VERY creepy when they start referring to themselves as 'Pop-pop' during the dance (because A)that's what I used to call MY grandfather [rest his soul] and B)just...no).
Ick.
So a little later, the bar fills up more.
Me=Dootdootdoot.
C=Customer
Customer looked to be in his 20s. He was also all decked out like a wannabe baller. I say 'wannabe' because ballers, in my experience, tend to have money. Anyway...
Me=*dancedancesmilesmile*
C=Hey, 'sup baby gurrrrl?
Me=*inwardly rolls eyes* Not too much! How are you? *smilesmile*
C=Yo, 'sup wit yo HAIR? S'cool lookin. Whatchoo pay fo' those ex-ten-tions?
Me=*inwardly weeps for the English language* Oh, they're not extentions-when I cut my hair, I left the front long and just cut the back. *smilesmile* (*for the curious: this is what it looks like. Except the back grew to about four inches since that picture, so I have six pigtails-the two long bits in the front, two on top in the back, and two at my nape in the back.*)
C=Know whatchoo remin' me of baby?
Me=What's that?
C=One o' them freaks.
Me=o.O?
C=You know, one o' those freaks that like, dresses up and shit for that fair thing. *sneer*
Me=...are you referring to the Ren Faire?
C=Yeah! My girlfrien' made me go to dat. Buncha FREAKS. You should cut yo hair in the front. You don't wanna get confused fo' one o' DEM, do ya?
Me=*biiiiiiiiiig grin* I *am* one of them :)
He couldn't quite wrap his brain around that concept. Funny that he brought it up though, since a bunch of girls from work and I are going to the PA Ren Faire this year x)
This next one wasn't suck involving me, but involving my friend S. S is the girl who I met about 2 years ago who was stalked by one of our customers at our old bar.
Now, last night, someone kept ringing the bar phone and asking for her, saying it was her boyfriend. S was freaking out a bit, thinking something had happened to the kitten she just took in (her boyfriend was taking care of it while she worked). But her personal cell phone had no missed calls, and upon calling her actual boyfriend, found out that he hadn't been calling. She called her male friends too, and it wasn't any of them, either.
The guy ringing the bar kept saying his name was Chris. S has not dated someone named Chris since she was 15. The guy knew about her though-he knew her full real name o.O
So, freaky.
But I told her, if she talks to the guy-just tell him that the last guy that stalked her ended up dead xD She lol'd.
But thanks:
To the guy that calls me 'Lady K', tips well, and chats at length about interesting things.
To my old bars bartender/bouncer who came in and kept me company during a slow night.
And to DJ G for buying us shots when it was dead in the bar xD