Tales from the Boobie Bar!
Whee!
So yesterday, I walk into work at 11:15am. Bleary eyed, uncaffinated-up, and generally not awake yet, I head towards the dressing room. I can sort of see a table in front and to the left of the door with something on it. Grumpy yet curious, I go a bit closer.
It's a dead pig. A full dead pig. Head and all. Just chillin there.
o.O
I have no aversion to meat (I loves me some dead animal), but...uh. I cracked open the dressing room door, and called out to the housemom.
"Uh, mommy? Did you know that there's a giant fucking-"
"Yes, dear. Pig roast today, remember?"
Ah. Lovely.
Come noontime, we opened the doors, and men came streaming in to partake of the free pig available.
Customer the first: Halitosis man!
I went to go sit with him, as we're supposed to. I greet him, introduce myself, and offer my hand to be shaken.
As soon as he says hello-I know there's no way in hell I will ever do a couch dance or VIP dance for him. I mean...his breath was BAD. Worst I've smelled. His BO didn't help much, either.
Ew. ew. ew.
After a moment of pleasantries, I excuse myself. I couldn't take it >_< But Jesus...shower! Soap! Shampoo! Toothpaste! Deodorant! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO UNDERSTANDS THE IMPORTANCE OF GOOD PERSONAL HYGEINE?
Oi.
Customers 2-5: The cheapass grabby bikers!
They sat round the 'bar' area that surrounds the stage. In the one area of the club that you are required to tip. They watch me dance, yadda yadda, great. I get down and go round for tips.
And every. Single. One. of. Them. Tried to twist my nipple. Of course, when I take tips with my boobs, my hand covers the entire area of my nipple and most of my breast, so when I take the tip 'with my boob' I'm actually taking it sandwiched between the outside of my fingers (if you get the gist of what I'm describing). So when they tried to tweak my nipple, they ended up tweaking my knuckle.
So on my next go-round, they decided to put the dollar in my g-string instead. Alright, fine. But I'd already been warned by the other girls not to let them put it in the front, because they'll try their damndest to tweak my clit. O...kay. So I pull out the side to take the dollar. The guy tries to forcibly shove his hand towards my pootie-which was covered firmly by my other hand.
Me=tired and simply not in the mood for this shit.
BG=Biker Guy
BG=Aw, you're ruining my fun!
Me=Takes a lot to please you, doesn't it?
BG=Why do you say that?!
Me=Because you're already sitting here, watching the football game on a 9x19 foot big screen TV, eating FREE roast pig, drinking FREE beer that the club gave you, watching naked women dance around inches from your face-and you're still not having fun?
BG=...I just wanna grab your pretty pussy, that's all.
Me=That's not what I'm here for.
BG=But it's tradition! Every Pig Roast this club has, I do that!
Me=It can't be tradition here-because this is the first roast we've had. The club just opened three months ago.
BG=... ::blushes, gives me my dollar, turns away::
Dick. I told the bouncer about it, and he said that if they did manage to grab me, that then he could do something -_-
Customer 6: Good regular gone bad!
This guy used to be a regular at my old bar. He knows me fairly well, and he's always been a great customer-tips well, respectful, the whole nine yards.
Until yesterday.
He came in, saw I was working, and was rather happy about it.
Then he told me that the last time he was there, a dancer had given him a handjob in the VIP room o_O I asked who it was that had done it-and yep, it was a girl that was fired the next day for that reason.
He then asked me if I'd give him one.
Oh, I was pissed.
Me=five minutes from going home
RC=Regular customer
Me=No, I will not-that's gross, no offence.
RC=But *insert dancer name here* did it!
Me=And she was fired for it. It's illegal.
RC=But it's just me. You know me!
Me=I know a lot of people. I don't go around giving out handjobs to them, though.
RC=...so you won't?
Me=Uh, no.
RC=Who here will?!
I just got up and left the table. SKEEVY.
So yesterday, I walk into work at 11:15am. Bleary eyed, uncaffinated-up, and generally not awake yet, I head towards the dressing room. I can sort of see a table in front and to the left of the door with something on it. Grumpy yet curious, I go a bit closer.
It's a dead pig. A full dead pig. Head and all. Just chillin there.
o.O
I have no aversion to meat (I loves me some dead animal), but...uh. I cracked open the dressing room door, and called out to the housemom.
"Uh, mommy? Did you know that there's a giant fucking-"
"Yes, dear. Pig roast today, remember?"
Ah. Lovely.
Come noontime, we opened the doors, and men came streaming in to partake of the free pig available.
Customer the first: Halitosis man!
I went to go sit with him, as we're supposed to. I greet him, introduce myself, and offer my hand to be shaken.
As soon as he says hello-I know there's no way in hell I will ever do a couch dance or VIP dance for him. I mean...his breath was BAD. Worst I've smelled. His BO didn't help much, either.
Ew. ew. ew.
After a moment of pleasantries, I excuse myself. I couldn't take it >_< But Jesus...shower! Soap! Shampoo! Toothpaste! Deodorant! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO UNDERSTANDS THE IMPORTANCE OF GOOD PERSONAL HYGEINE?
Oi.
Customers 2-5: The cheapass grabby bikers!
They sat round the 'bar' area that surrounds the stage. In the one area of the club that you are required to tip. They watch me dance, yadda yadda, great. I get down and go round for tips.
And every. Single. One. of. Them. Tried to twist my nipple. Of course, when I take tips with my boobs, my hand covers the entire area of my nipple and most of my breast, so when I take the tip 'with my boob' I'm actually taking it sandwiched between the outside of my fingers (if you get the gist of what I'm describing). So when they tried to tweak my nipple, they ended up tweaking my knuckle.
So on my next go-round, they decided to put the dollar in my g-string instead. Alright, fine. But I'd already been warned by the other girls not to let them put it in the front, because they'll try their damndest to tweak my clit. O...kay. So I pull out the side to take the dollar. The guy tries to forcibly shove his hand towards my pootie-which was covered firmly by my other hand.
Me=tired and simply not in the mood for this shit.
BG=Biker Guy
BG=Aw, you're ruining my fun!
Me=Takes a lot to please you, doesn't it?
BG=Why do you say that?!
Me=Because you're already sitting here, watching the football game on a 9x19 foot big screen TV, eating FREE roast pig, drinking FREE beer that the club gave you, watching naked women dance around inches from your face-and you're still not having fun?
BG=...I just wanna grab your pretty pussy, that's all.
Me=That's not what I'm here for.
BG=But it's tradition! Every Pig Roast this club has, I do that!
Me=It can't be tradition here-because this is the first roast we've had. The club just opened three months ago.
BG=... ::blushes, gives me my dollar, turns away::
Dick. I told the bouncer about it, and he said that if they did manage to grab me, that then he could do something -_-
Customer 6: Good regular gone bad!
This guy used to be a regular at my old bar. He knows me fairly well, and he's always been a great customer-tips well, respectful, the whole nine yards.
Until yesterday.
He came in, saw I was working, and was rather happy about it.
Then he told me that the last time he was there, a dancer had given him a handjob in the VIP room o_O I asked who it was that had done it-and yep, it was a girl that was fired the next day for that reason.
He then asked me if I'd give him one.
Oh, I was pissed.
Me=five minutes from going home
RC=Regular customer
Me=No, I will not-that's gross, no offence.
RC=But *insert dancer name here* did it!
Me=And she was fired for it. It's illegal.
RC=But it's just me. You know me!
Me=I know a lot of people. I don't go around giving out handjobs to them, though.
RC=...so you won't?
Me=Uh, no.
RC=Who here will?!
I just got up and left the table. SKEEVY.