Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Crazy Wheelchair Man

Saturday night started off, as usual, moderately slow. Our other waitress, "Esmerelda," called in, her daughter was sick and her babysitter bailed. It's got to be tough to be a single mom these days.

Our hostess, "Queenie" was taking over her section. I was in the back, getting my ass kicked in a game of pool, when the early crowd started filing in. I looked up from nearly missing sinking the eight ball (I was aiming for the fourteen) and saw an older man in a wheelchair come in, followed by a large man in an even larger cowboy hat. Queenie already got their first round, so I continued on with getting massacred at pool.

A very short time later (Glen is really good at pool, and he spares me no exception) I made my first round around the club, starting at Wheelchair man's table.

"Hi, can I get your guys another round?" I pointed to the empty glasses in front of them.

"Well, hell yeah you can!" The Cowboy was loud, and I got the feeling he was used to being in charge. "I'll take another crown and water, and for this pretty lady," he leaned over to my dancer, Celestial and took her order, "she'll have a Shirley temple. Go ahead and bring him another one of whatever he was drinking." He pointed to the guy in the wheelchair.

I leaned down until I was eye level with him, and he mouthed "cape cod."

"Ok, a cape cod, crown and water, and a Shirley temple. Anything else?"

"Bring me a shot of Patron, as well. And bring this fucker one too." Cowboy pointed to Wheelchair man.

"Coming up!"

I brought the drinks back, set them on the table, and was waiting for Cowboy to pay me when I felt a hand reach up my thigh and cup me on my hoo-ha. A quick glance revealed Wheelchair man as the culprit. I grabbed his hand and moved it away as Cowboy started to laugh.

"Hah hah! You gotta watch out for him, he's a feisty one!"

"Yes, I can see that," I mused. Cowboy handed me some money and I left the table.

When I came back by the shot glasses were empty, used lime wedges creating sticky pools on the table. I reached down to pick them up when Wheelchair man grabbed my wrist, quite firmly, and took the empty shot glass out of my hand. I let him keep it.

After making another round I noticed that Wheelchair man was no longer at the table. Cowboy was sitting on pervert row at stage one, hooting as Celestial danced. I glanced around the club and noticed Wheelchair man making donuts by the shower stage, bumping into tables and other patrons.

Queenie approached him, trying to get him to stop, when he took off and headed into the shower stage. She followed, and as she did, he spun around and hit her with his wheelchair, causing his shoe to come off. She bent down to pick up the shoe and attempted to put it back on his foot. Every time she would try, he would either reverse the wheelchair or slam it into her. Finally she gave up and just handed him his shoe.

Meanwhile, at stage one, Cowboy was craning his neck in the "where's my waitress" stance, so I headed to where he was.

"Can I get you another Crown and water?" I reached for the ashtray so I could dump it into the napkin I held in my hand.

"Don't fucking interrupt me when I'm watching this beautiful woman dance!" He held his empty glass up, still staring at the stage. "Now, bring me---"

I walked away, leaving him in mid-order. If you don't want me to interrupt you, that's fine. But that means I'm not going to wait on you, either.

I headed back to the bar and ran into Queenie, recounting her exploits as Titty Bar Nurse, when I noticed Wheelchair man head for the back.

"Looks like he's off again!" I laughed, pointing to the VIP section where Wheelchair man was headed.

"Oh, God, what's he up to now." Queenie sighed and chased after him. A few minutes later I saw her making a b-line for Glen, who was at the food bar.

It wasn't long after that when Glen had a quick conversation with Cowboy, and both Cowboy and Wheelchair man left the building.

"What happened?" I asked Queenie, once she had made it back to the bar.

"He peed in VIP!" She was in shock, her mouth agape.

"Oh, you're kidding!" I stifled a laugh. "Are you sure it wasn't an accident?"

"No, he had his penis in his hands and he was peeing in VIP!!! I'm not cleaning that up, you know." She put her hands on her hips, trying very difficult to appear dominant, aside from her tiny frame.

"We'll get one of the guys to do it," I said, still laughing, as I walked off to wait the rest of my tables.


Blogger INNER VOICES said...

makes you wonder if wheelchair man had more issues than the obvious... what do you do when stuck in a wheel chair and you have to pee? and your good buddy is too busy being all he can be... nice work keeping cool and still having the ability to laugh it off...

2:03 PM  
Anonymous Gypsy_Jo said...

WHY are people so damn rude? its not just the titty bar commandos either (waiter also makes this soooo clear!). is it the service industry workers plight to always be spoken AT , not To?

BTW: theres a very interesting nerve center on the wrist, find it and use it the next time some shmuck attempts to touch your nana... god, I'm tempted to order you a chastity belt, for your own safety!
kudos to waitress once again


2:16 PM  
Blogger Wide Lawns Subservient Worker said...

Oh oh oh. Bad. Hoo-ha cupping and VIPeeing. In a wheelchair. Maybe he feels like because he is in a wheelchair he can get away with being an idiot. Wonder why he's in a wheelchair. Hey, wouldn't it be crazy if he wasn't even paralyzed at all? What if he had a scam where he was totally healthy and he gets into the wheelchair to go to the titty bar because there he can act a fool and people will feel sorry for him and let him get away with it.

2:59 PM  
Blogger INNER VOICES said...

WLSW might have it there... what are his real issues? and VIPeeing... so good...

4:00 PM  
Blogger SkippyMom said...

See? Sense of entitlement runs the gamut. Sheesh, takes all kinds, doesnt' it?

Again, a fun post!

4:21 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Eww... But great post as always Waitress! ^_^

5:39 PM  
Anonymous Ellis said...

I have an uncle who is kind of like that. Not so bad, but I have to warn my female friends to keep their distance when we are over at their house. Luckily, he isn't so mobile

6:09 PM  
Blogger T. said...

So THAT's what happens in the VIP section! I always wondered. Think I'll stick to the men's room.

11:05 AM  
Blogger barista brat said...

oh wow! the things you have to put up with...

12:38 AM  
Anonymous Ms. K said...

Good Lord. I guess he feels that his wheelchair provides him SPESHUL access to hoo-has and places to pee?

I can tell you that I would not last long in your line of work. I'd probably have castrated someone by now.

And I thought retail was bad...

2:48 AM  
Blogger i'llnevertell! said...

Oh retail is HORRIBLE!!! I used to work at sears and the buckle and I can tell you, waiting tables at the strip club is MUCH LESS worse than retail. At least where I work i can yell back at the customers!

Best of luck to you!

2:43 PM  
Anonymous The Pensive Penguin said...

How come one of the guys has to clean up the piss? I say go find wheelchair guy, strap a mop to his chair and wheel him around a while to clean up.

Seriously, though, some bars have "you puke, you clean" policies that are mostly just a joke to discourage exsessive drinking, but I've seen drunken retards get talked into cleaning their own puke off the floors of bars. There's a dirty punk bar in vegas called the Double Down Saloon (the words "Happiest place on earth" are sloppily painted over the entrance) and they sell puke insurance for twenty dollars.

12:27 AM  
Blogger i'llnevertell! said...

What on earth it puke insurance?

5:22 AM  
Anonymous Ms. K said...

Hell, I'd love to know what "puke insurance" is, too!

Oh, and I'llnevertell? I don't work retail anymore, thank the Deity Of Your Choice. Hey, you get to yell back at customers?

Hmmmm.....if I ever need an extra paycheck......

12:56 AM  
Anonymous The Pensive Penguin said...

Puke Insurance--You pay twenty bucks and if you throw up in the bar, they don't make you clean it up.

Like I said, the Double Down Saloon is a dirty, DIRTY punk bar. Right around the corner from UNLV on paradise ave., if you're ever in Vegas.

3:02 AM  

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