The Freaks Come Out at Night
Part two
I made my rounds around the bar, exhaustion beginning to really take a hold on me. I started to forget drink orders, and made way too many trips to the bathroom to sit down for a moment. I really should have gone home and slept rather than getting my nails done, but at least my hands look pretty.
Eventually, Preggars, Bigun, and "the bitch with the short brown hair" left the bar. I had stopped waiting on them after the altercation with Dawn, partly because they were already drunk, but mostly because I didn't want to deal with the other half of the pancake.
Approximately an hour later I'm standing at the service station, waiting for my drinks, when Terry, one of the bar regulars, grabs my arm.
"Fight, over there, look!" He's pointing and gesturing to the right side of stage one, the same spot where the first drama occurred.
I look up and all I can make out is a large commotion of dancers. One girl, "Lilah" is holding another girl, "Micah". Micah is about 5'4 and weighs maybe 95 pounds. She's a teeny tiny dancer, and every time I see her I can't get that damn Elton John song out of my head.
Lilah goes storming back to the dressing room, and as she passes me, I asked her who was fighting.
"No one," is her curt reply.
I would love to have left it at that, but curiosity got the better of me, and so later on, when I was waiting on a table where Micah was sitting, I asked her what happened.
"Dude," she said, "okay, so I get off stage and I'm going around thanking everybody. See those three guys at stage one?"
I turn to look where she is pointing and see three gentlemen, two with baseball caps, and one without sitting with their backs to us.
"Yeah, what about them?"
"Well, they tipped me and so I came up behind them and gave them a hug and said thank you. As I was walking off, this crazy bitch shoved me from behind and started screaming 'get your fucking hands off my boyfriend!'."
"Oh Jesus," I reply, rubbing my temples with my freshly manicured fingers. "Another angry girl."
"What?" Micah was confused, she doesn't know about my blog.
"Nothing, never mind. What happened next?"
"Well, I turn around and she's still standing there, screaming at me, so I start to go for her, you know, I'm thinking 'what the fuck-- I'm going to hit this bitch', when Lilah grabs me around the waist and holds me back."
That must have been where I first started paying attention, I think to myself. I also think that it's probably a good thing that Lilah held her back, considering how tiny she is.
"So where's the girlfriend now?" I look around, not seeing a woman by herself.
"She left," Micah replied.
"But her boyfriend is still at the stage!"
"I know, he told her he wasn't leaving." Micah takes a drag of her Black and Mild and I walk away, shaking my head.
As I walk up to the bar to recount the events to my bartender and other waitress, I can't help thinking that maybe Angry Girl has more problems in her relationship than getting hugged by a stripper. I barely have time to process this information before the next round of drama was upon us.
To be continued...
I made my rounds around the bar, exhaustion beginning to really take a hold on me. I started to forget drink orders, and made way too many trips to the bathroom to sit down for a moment. I really should have gone home and slept rather than getting my nails done, but at least my hands look pretty.
Eventually, Preggars, Bigun, and "the bitch with the short brown hair" left the bar. I had stopped waiting on them after the altercation with Dawn, partly because they were already drunk, but mostly because I didn't want to deal with the other half of the pancake.
Approximately an hour later I'm standing at the service station, waiting for my drinks, when Terry, one of the bar regulars, grabs my arm.
"Fight, over there, look!" He's pointing and gesturing to the right side of stage one, the same spot where the first drama occurred.
I look up and all I can make out is a large commotion of dancers. One girl, "Lilah" is holding another girl, "Micah". Micah is about 5'4 and weighs maybe 95 pounds. She's a teeny tiny dancer, and every time I see her I can't get that damn Elton John song out of my head.
Lilah goes storming back to the dressing room, and as she passes me, I asked her who was fighting.
"No one," is her curt reply.
I would love to have left it at that, but curiosity got the better of me, and so later on, when I was waiting on a table where Micah was sitting, I asked her what happened.
"Dude," she said, "okay, so I get off stage and I'm going around thanking everybody. See those three guys at stage one?"
I turn to look where she is pointing and see three gentlemen, two with baseball caps, and one without sitting with their backs to us.
"Yeah, what about them?"
"Well, they tipped me and so I came up behind them and gave them a hug and said thank you. As I was walking off, this crazy bitch shoved me from behind and started screaming 'get your fucking hands off my boyfriend!'."
"Oh Jesus," I reply, rubbing my temples with my freshly manicured fingers. "Another angry girl."
"What?" Micah was confused, she doesn't know about my blog.
"Nothing, never mind. What happened next?"
"Well, I turn around and she's still standing there, screaming at me, so I start to go for her, you know, I'm thinking 'what the fuck-- I'm going to hit this bitch', when Lilah grabs me around the waist and holds me back."
That must have been where I first started paying attention, I think to myself. I also think that it's probably a good thing that Lilah held her back, considering how tiny she is.
"So where's the girlfriend now?" I look around, not seeing a woman by herself.
"She left," Micah replied.
"But her boyfriend is still at the stage!"
"I know, he told her he wasn't leaving." Micah takes a drag of her Black and Mild and I walk away, shaking my head.
As I walk up to the bar to recount the events to my bartender and other waitress, I can't help thinking that maybe Angry Girl has more problems in her relationship than getting hugged by a stripper. I barely have time to process this information before the next round of drama was upon us.
To be continued...
posted by Jennifer at 1:43 PM
6 Comments:
patience, my dear boobs, there's more to come.
Waitress! I cant stand the suspense. Come on!
why would you bring your girlfriend to a strip club in the first place...
it can't end well.
I'm no puritan, but I am saddened by your blog.
As per Reitman Jrs flick, it's all ok if it pays the "mortgage".
ANON-Saddend? WTF for? since time began there have been dancing girls, and I dont think they were paying the mortgage in say 612 BC....
Your comment saddens me, anonymous. what a shame you were not proud enough of your statement to identify yourself.
and Boobs, I know many women who prefer the "show" bars to the regular ones. I'd rather go with hubby to a titty bar, I look, I tip. in fact I met my husband in a go go bar, 17 years ago. no regrets :)
drink your milk!
GJ
Who goes to a strip club with their boyfriends and DOESN'T think that people will come around to shake their hand, hug them, put their hand on their shoulder, etc. Jeez...you gotta consider the setting before getting all pissed off. Or better yet, don't go!
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