Tales from the Boobie Bar!
First, a small and annoying suck.
Me=:D
Customer=C
Me=*goes around, dancedancesmilesmile* Hi!
C=Oh, hay thar POCOHONTAS!
Me=o.O
C=You know?! Cuz you look like her!
Me=Um, thanks! *keeps dancing because he is tipping, even if he is fucking annoying*
C=JUST LIKE HER
Me=I don't really think so, but thank you.
C=Yuh huh! You're an Indian, right?! *he meant a Native American-and while we do have a lot of Blackfoot and Lakota in the area, wtf*
He then made the "WO-WO-WO-WO-WO" sound, hand moving to cover his mouth and back out o.O I think if I were Native, that would piss me off.
Me=O_O No. Not even a little.
C=oh.
I don't mind polite questions as to my heritage, and to be fair I do get them a lot. But don't be a dick about it.
Now, in this business, there's always a customer or two who assumes that we're prostitutes and offer us money to go home with them. Shitty, but part of the job and often easy to take care of-we tell a bouncer, the guy gets thrown out, life goes on.
This guy, though, seriously made me blank out for a second.
Younger guy, maybe 23. No accent, dress and mannerisms imply that he's from this country.
This guy didn't offer me money to go home with him. He asked who my owner was so that he could purchase me.
As a slave, like.
o.o
I was sure he was joking, at first. But after I laughed at what I assumed was a bad joke, he got very angry with me and demanded that he be allowed to speak to my 'owner' so that he could make arrangements to purchase me.
I walked away, boggled a bit, and grabbed the nearest bouncer to throw the guy out.
And of course, the guy had no clue why he was being tossed.
Arg.
Saved the best for last.
This happened this afternoon at work.
A group of 5 or 6 newly 21 year old guys come in. They're drinking, tipping, hollering a bit, generally having fun-which is fine.
I'm at the DJ booth picking my music, when I hear the girl currently onstage (we'll call her S) start yelling. The guys start yelling back. S seems angry.
Okay, that's inaccurate. S is flipping the fuck out.
Suddenly, the 5 or 6 guys start arguing between themselves.
DJ B turns down the music and hollers at them over the mic to relax and sit down. When they don't, B starts running over there. The manager was watching couch dances, so I took over for her. As they're both going over there, the guys start throwing punches at each other.
S gets offstage, B jumps in the fray, and the whole tangled mess starts migrating towards the exit of the club. It stops briefly by the DJ booth where S was standing after getting offstage, trapping her for a few moments. Thankfully, no stray punches land on her and she manages to squirm away.
It turns out that the start of this whole kerfluffle was that one of the guys had thrown a lit cigarette at S.
I guess my initial reaction to this information was something like HOLY FUCK WHO THE FUCK THROWS SOMETHING THAT IS ON FIRE AT ANOTHER PERSON WTFWTFWTF
WHO DOES THAT
I MEAN SRSLY
Then I calmed down a little, and also found out that the boys are friends of one of the owners. And yes, that owner got a nice little phonecall about his friends attempted assault on a dancer.
But wow. WOW.
But thank you-
To the sweet gentleman who tipped me with a $20 on a stage set (usually the average tip for that is $2).
To the young man who came in for the very first time but was so much better behaved and tipped better than regulars who have been coming for years.
And to the guy sitting near the fire-flinging assholes today for standing up for us (verbally) as a whole.