Missed It By One Day

Part Four:

I put the twenty in Monique's shirt and searched for something to say.

"Umm," I stammered, "it's from Monica and Chris."

"That bitch just got in my face and screamed at me!" Monique was still shaking.

"Yeah, I saw that. What the fuck happened?"

"I don't fucking know," Monique sighed. "Purity and I were back there doing a double lap dance on Chris, when Monica started freaking the fuck out. Then Duke came back there and started yelling at me in front of customers, and that's when all that shit happened." She looked around the club. "I just don't know what's going on."

Just then, Duke approached.

"Monique," he yelled, "go to the dressing room. Now!"

Monique turned and headed to the dressing room and Duke followed shortly behind. I headed up to the bar to get a drink, God knows I needed one-- or four.

There was a guy about my age (from what I could tell) standing at the bar when I approached and I smiled and made random conversation. It turns out we go to the same school, and the chat quickly turned to majors and interests.

"I'm a criminology major," he said.

"That's impossible," I replied. "State U doesn't offer a criminology major."

"Yes they do," he insisted.

"No. No they don't. They have a criminology concentration, not a major. You have to be a sociology major and concentrate on criminology."

"Well, that's what I meant," he retorted. "But it doesn't really matter because when I graduate I'm going to law school."

"So am I," I responded.

"Oh yeah? Are you going to Central U's law school?"

"No, if I go to law school here it'll probably be Northwest U's program," I answered, downing a Jager Bomb.

"Why Northwest U? Central U's is ranked higher."

I sighed. Strike two, I thought to myself. "Actually that's not true. Central U's law school is in the top of the second tier of law schools. Northwest U is ranked in the top tier. It's in the bottom two-thirds, but it's in the top tier."

"Are you sure?" He raised his chin, looking down at me, puzzled.

"Yes. I am absolutely positive," I replied.

"Well," he said, "I'm going to have to look into that. Because women don't know what the hell they're talking about."

You've got to be kidding me, I thought, staring this poor excuse for a man down with a glare that could shake Mt. Everest.

"Hey," he said, emitting uncomfortable laughter, "I was just seeing if you had a sense of humor."

I turned from the bar and headed into the dressing room. I wanted to go hide in the bathroom and have a smoke without anyone talking to me. I was getting close to my wits end. I didn't get very far.

As soon as I entered the dressing room I could hear the screaming. Monique and Duke were still having it out, in a most loud way. Pierce and another dancer were standing on the sidelines, watching the festivities with pointed amusement. I turned on my heels and headed out of the dressing room, praying for a moments peace.

I had barely made it around the corner when Monique stormed out of the dressing room, followed quickly by Duke. Around the bar they stalked, each throwing remarks back to the other. Then they headed back into the dressing room, apparently for round two. Right behind them was CEO, who had called Elvis in to DJ so he could go sort out the inter-employee drama. Apparently he got it all straightened out because soon after, Duke headed out to the parking lot and Monique back on the floor.

"What the fuck is going on," Savannah asked, leaning on the bar while she smoked a cigarette.

"I don't even fucking want to know," I replied, in between rearranging my drinks on my tray. Suddenly I felt pressure on my left side.

There was a very drunk, very little Hispanic man on my left. For some reason, he wanted to be shoulder to shoulder with me, and I was in no mood for physical contact. I took a step to my right and Little Latino man leaned with me. I took another step, and he leaned further, knees never bending. I took one final step which put me right up against the person on my right, and Little Latino man was still attached to me at the shoulder. That was when I felt a hand reach into my back pocket where I kept my money.

I turned to my right, breaking the connection between me and the man on my right. I looked up at him, and it was crazy crackead man, Mr. Wannabe Ghetto Gangsta.

"What the fuck are you doing!?!" I yelled at him, accusation dripping in my tone.

"Uh, I don't know?" He replied, a slight smirk on his mouth, which was full of fake gold.

"You don't know?! You don't know!! I'll tell you what you don't know, asshole." I was cut off when I felt a presence behind me. Figuring it was a bouncer come to rescue me I spun-- and came face to face with Chad. My own personal rescue man.

That was when I realized I was in some twisted version of "The Wizard of Oz." I was sandwiched between the three of them, Leaning Latino Tin-Man, Ghetto Gangsta Scarecrow, Creepy Cowardly Lion, and me, unsure if I was Dorothy or the Wicked Witch. Instantly I was claustrophobic.

I pushed myself thru the three of them, no easy task mind you, and headed behind the bar. There I hid, whimpering.

Great, I thought to myself, I'm fucking Toto.

Luckily, I didn't have to hide for too long. Boyfriend walked in a few minutes later, and I immediately ran to hide on him. I turned the corner of the bar to join him, but someone had beat me to it.

There, sitting next to my boyfriend, attempting to strike up a conversation, was none other than Crazy Crackhead man. And not far behind him? Chad.

"Jesus CHRIST when is this going to stop!" I screamed, turning for the bar as boyfriend shot me a look of confusion.

"Hey, Waitress, you ok?" Chad asked, blocking my path to the bar.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" I dodged him, heading up to the bar when someone punched me in the ass. Yes, punched me. In the ass.

It was our Little Latino Tin-Man friend. I'm not sure if he was attempting to grab my ass, or just over swinging his tiny drunk arms, but I didn't care by that point.

I turned around to head outside when I was stopped by Toby, a guy that used to work for us as a DJ, before he got fired for being a complete tool.

"Hey, waitress," he said, "hook me up with a Bud Light."

I just looked at him.

"Ok, then put it on CEO's tab," he said, trying to look pitiful.

"Look Toby, I am not in the mood for your shit right now, and I'm not going to get you a fucking beer, Ok? You want one, go fucking get one, but leave me the hell alone!"

Crazy Crackhead and Chad were no longer sitting by my boyfriend so I headed over to his table, crawling in his lap and burying my head in his neck.

"Get me out of here," I moaned, muffling my sounds in his stubble. "I am throwing up drama!"

"What happened, honey?"

I started to tell him but then stopped.

"Fuck it," I said, "read my blog."