Employee Meeting at a Strip ClubBelow is an excerpt from my book — a mostly true story about my days as a strip club bartender in Austin, Texas where I mostly broke shit, drank a ton of booze, sometimes poured drinks, and always hit on my favorite manager.
As I swayed around the bar with tunnel vision, I managed to collect all my money from the register and stuffed it in the bank deposit bag. I swapped places with the night time bartender and hovered around for a moment while she put her money in the cash register.
“Check this out” She leaned over and held up a gold locket necklace. She huddled up next to me and pried it open. Revealing a secret stash of cocaine, she looked up at me with a proud smile from ear to ear.
“That’s pretty crazy,” I slurred and turned towards the office.
I flung open the door and squinted my eyes in response to the bright lights. Almost immediately, I made my way back behind the bar and retrieved the sunglasses I had left behind.
Even though I felt like Ray Charles, it was necessary to cover my drunk eyes.
I pushed open the door once again, only this time I missed one of the steps and fell to one knee. The office door was wide open and the door girl, who was in my direct line of sight, began to laugh.
The back room and office can best be described as how some fancy rich people have a separate room in their bathroom for the toilet. It’s a tiny room inside a room.
Thomas poked his head from around the corner to see what she was amused by and I tried to play it off like I was doing some lunges before erupting in laughter at my own ridiculousness.
I stood back up and covered my face with my hands as I made my way over to them. I was laughing so hard, tears were streaming down my cheeks.
“Stop looking at me!”
“Oh my god! You’re so drunk,” the door girl giggled.
I snorted, causing them both to erupt in laughter. We laughed and laughed, and I snorted again. They doubled over and Thomas wiped tears off his face cheeks.
The side door flung open and Sulley strolled in. Startled, I jumped back and let out my signature monotone ‘Ahhh!’ Door Girl and Thomas snickered.
Sulley paused and looked at all of us cracking up and smiled before asking, “What’s so funny?”
I nuzzled my head in my elbow to hide my face as I continued to laugh. Even though I had on my handy dandy shades, I couldn’t bring myself to look at Sulley.
I have this thing where if I don’t want to respond or deal with something in real life, I just hide behind things … even if that means simply covering my eyes with my hands. Yes, like a child.
“‘Ole drunky pants over here,” Thomas replied.
“I’ve never seen her this drunk before!” Door Girl chimed in.
I peeped up at Sulley and giggled before going back into my turtle shell. Everyone watched as I covered my face with my hands and crept behind the office door.
I pulled it close to me and shut my eyes, trying to catch my breath.
When I opened them again, Thomas had his face pressed against the door and was staring at me with one eyeball through the crack. I flinched and started laughing again and he followed suit, causing me to snort again. This time, Sulley tee hee hee’d with us.
The door flung open once more and night time waitresses filed into the back for their pre-shift pow wow. I inched back into the corner as far as possible and held my hand over my mouth so no one would hear me.
“Okay ladies. Let’s go over a few things. What are the specials tonight?” Chaz, one of the other night time managers, asked the gang.
“$4 drinks!” a girl called out.
“$3 Jager?” someone guessed.
“No. Come on, guys. Who can tell me what the drink specials are tonight? It’s Sunday,” he pressed.
“Oh!” a girl squealed. “$3 steaks!”
I could hear the frown on Chaz’s face. “Okay, I said drink specials. And we never have $3 steaks,” he added.
“Yeah, we do! During day time, they’re $3,” the girl defended herself.
I rolled my eyes as I shook my head.
“$5.99,” Thomas objected from the office.
I squeezed my hand tightly over my mouth to silence my giggles. Who knew the entire night crew was a giant colossus of Normas?
“Okay, ladies,” Sulley stepped in to help. “It’s Sunday. What specials do we always have on Sunday? Think ‘S’ for Sunday! I know you guys know this,” he encouraged them.
“Steak for $5.99!”
“S-E-V-E-N dollar Vegas Bombs. $6 Vegas Bombs!”
If I had the room to do a face palm, I would have.
“Nope, not quite,” Sulley crooned.
I snuck a look through the crack at Thomas and the door girl in the office who were both quietly snickering about the matter as Thomas did my job and counted my money.
I quickly shut my eyes and crossed my legs together so I wouldn’t pee on myself.
“Strippers pay for all their drinks!” I heard a giggle.
“That’s a good one.” Sulley politely faked a laugh. “But not quite.”
As I stared at the hollow white door in front of me, I tried to imagine the current expression on Chaz’s face. As a result of this hilarious image I concocted in my brain, I was forced to squeeze my crossed legs together even tighter and I might have peed a little bit.
“Alright, I’ll give y’all another clue,” Sulley went on.
I leaned over and whispered through the crack to Thomas and the door girl in the office. “What is this? Nancy fuckin’ Drew?”
“I forgot you were there,” Door Girl whisper-laughed back.
“Sunday starts with an ‘S’ and ends with a?” Sulley cheered.
“Y!” a few of them sang back.
A lone wolf hollered ‘Funday!’ at the same time.
“And what else starts with an ‘S’ and ends with a ‘Y’? It’s a type of vodka …” he chirped back, ignoring the moron.
“Slutty!” a girl joked.
“Sunday!” Some. Fucking. Dumbass. Shouted.
While the rest remained puzzled, I let a quiet giggle slip out. I quickly squeezed my hand over my mouth with one hand and I cupped my vagina with the other hand to stop the flow of urine.
“Obviously Sunday rhymes with Sunday, you dumb inbred bitch,” someone snapped and I almost lost it. Thomas and Door Girl snickered in the office.
“OH, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! IT’S SKYY VODKA, OKAY? SKYY FUCKING VODKA IS $4! EVERY FUCKING SUNDAY!” Chaz screamed at the top of his lungs.
There’s the explosion I was waiting for.
My body began to shake as I desperately struggled to not laugh and/or completely saturate my work pants.
By work pants, I mean yoga shorts. Yeah, those are a thing.
I pinched my nose as a precautionary measure in the event I was to let out a snort again.
“See guys! S-K-Y-Y. Starts with an ‘S’ and ends with a ‘Y’,” Sulley patiently pointed out, playing good cop to counteract Chaz’s bad cop explosion. “Two Y’s actually,” he chuckled to himself.
Since he sounded like he was talking to a bunch of six-year-olds, I could no longer control myself. I doubled over and busted out laughing, causing the door to slowly open and expose me.
I froze and stared through my sunglasses at a sea of puzzled-looking faces with one hand still clasping my genitalia.