Tuesday, December 28, 2010

just another manic monday

yesterday i worked with a new girl. she was INTENSE. i was first on the schedule, meaning i started at 11:30 and then the other girl starts at 11:45. i got to work only 10 mins early, went downstairs and put on some lipstick and was up on stage on time. i still needed to straighten my hair, do my eye makeup, etc, but i figured i'd just do it at 11:45 when the other girl started. well at 11:42 the girl shows up dragging this big clunky tool-chest thing and tells me she's running late so i'll just have to cover for her for a little while and then she'll be right up. i was like, "i actually don't have to cover for you. please just get on stage at the right time and then do your makeup on your break." she was like, "oh well i'll just be a few minutes," and clunked the tool chest down the stairs. CLONK! CLONK! CLONKCLONKCLONKCLONK! CLONK! finally a little after NOON i went downstairs. "you need to get on stage. it's empty. your shift started 20 minutes ago. you don't get to decide to make me keep dancing for you while you get ready." annoying.

so i did my hair and makeup and then went up and danced again. a couple hours went by without incident. she basically started talking the moment she arrived and then just never stopped for the whole rest of the day. i responded politely for a while, but then just tuned her out. she seemed speedy to me. i wondered whether i was that clueless and grating when i did speed. i don't remember how i was then because i was out of my head. but people tell me i talked a lot.

then a regular of mine came in, the italian guy with the short little lap. he bought a bunch of dances. the girl kept playing songs and then leaving long gaps between them, which is annoying because all that time is just time you have to hang out naked with a customer, not dancing, just hanging out. it can be awkward. often i'll just keep dancing, sans music, because i don't want to hear anymore about the guy's frigid wife or whatever and would rather keep him blissed out and quiet.

annnnnnyway, my guy was about to leave but i got him to stay for one more set of dances. the girl played two songs and then just stopped. after several minutes i stuck my head out, "hey hon, you need some money for the jukebox?"

"nah. i'm done," she said. i noticed she was fully clothed. as in, she had jeans on and everything.

"no, honey, you have one more."

"nope! that was three!" she demanded.

my customer was like, "that was definitely two. i'm 100% positive that that was two." so i gave him $20 back, but he gentlemanly let me keep it, although i could tell he was a little bummed to miss out on his last pre-paid dance of the day. "merry christmas," he said.

it was clear that the girl was not going to dance anymore, that she was chomping at the bit to go out for a smoke. i went up to dance. she goes, "yeah, that was totally three, girl! you must've been having so much fun in there you just lost count."

"actually. it was two. i am 100% positive about it, as was my customer. but since you're dressed and my customer's gone let's just forget about it."

"well, i'll dance another song if you NEED ME TO, but that would make FOUR IN A ROW, and you're NOT supposed to do that here, i already got yelled at for that!" she started undoing her jeans, the unlit cigarette in her mouth dangling precariously as she wobbled on one stiletto.

there were finally customers in the club, and they were all staring at the drama unfolding. "i'm going on stage now and i'll dance. i'm done talking about this now," i said, quietly.

then she just exploded, "i've NEVER been treated so rudely as here! the girls in this club are SO RUDE!" she rifled through her purse for her lighter. "i don't know why everybody always has to pick on me! i've only been stripping for three months, give me a break! SO RUDE. just MEAN!!!" she was still exclaiming as she made for the door.

of course my boss was in the back this entire time, putting away the liquor order. plus she's a bit hard of hearing. i wish she'd seen this hubbub. she frowns upon temper tantrums and yelling at other dancers in front of customers.

the girl's attitude with me oscillated between injured and bullying for the rest of the day, but at least she stopped talking to me. she continued to talk to the customers a lot, though. her voice is really loud. every time a new customer would come in, she'd go, "and for those of you just getting here, i'm ___ _____." i won't tell you her name, but i will say that it seems a short-sighted name to choose. oh that doesn't even make sense unless i tell you what it is! but i can't! arg.

hmm. what else. well, i didn't make even a dollar till 1pm, but then between 1 and 4 i made $400. pretty great for a rainy monday afternoon, if i do say so.

a guy came in who seemed super normal. an accountant and medical biller at a clinic downtown. he knocked off work early and took "three E's," which is a lot of ecstacy. that would've been too much for me. although i don't really know how much that is since i've only ever snorted it. anyway he appeared to be high, and then just got higher and higher as the day wore on. he bought several dances from me. i asked him why he had so heavily drugged himself in the middle of the workday. he told me he was reporting to jail on wednesday morning for speeding three times and then failing to do the community service in time, and that he wanted to have as much fun as possible before then. i think reporting to jail all cracked out and coming down off drugs is a prescription for a week-long inescapable panic attack. but we all do things differently.

he said something that was both sad and funny. he told me he was bummed and terrified about being in jail for 90 days, but that on the bright side maybe the little girl ghost who had been haunting him will have moved on by the time he gets out. "i just picked her up randomly a week ago, i think at this wild solstice party i was at, and she's been making my life hell." he showed me a deep scratch on his shoulder. "i woke up yesterday morning and she was sitting on my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. then she just reached down and scratched me with her little nails, and she laughed and laughed." he shuddered. "and she's not even in old-timey clothes. she's wearing, like, a carebears sweatsuit from the 80's."

"well, she's not here right now, at least," i said. "otherwise i would be able to feel her and probably see her." (which is true, btw.)

"yeah. she really likes it inside my apartment, for some reason. she's been staying there all the time. i just hope she gets bored and leaves while i'm in jail. it would be nice to get out and have her gone."

i thought for a minute, "oh no! what if she follows you to jail?!" but then i thought, "little girls don't want to hang out in jail."

when i was getting off work, there was a note from the new girl on my makeup bag. "i'm sorry about before," it read. "i'm new at all this and i take things too personal sometimes."

a prime real-life example of a joke of pretend that my mom likes to call "I'M NEW HERE." it's where she does something annoying or says something totally rude, or fails to follow through on a promise or whatever, and then makes this vacant doe-eyed expression and goes, "oh? i'm not supposed to do that/i did that wrong/i was supposed to fix that/i hurt your feelings? i'm sorry, I'M NEW HERE!" and then nobody's mad anymore about whatever it was and we're all laughing instead. because haven't we all worked with some obnoxious asshole who does stupid shit and then feigns innocent ignorance and wants you to keep doing their work/cutting them breaks under the guise of being NEW HERE? i'm not sure why it always works as a joke for my mom getting off the hook, it just one of those mysterious things that always keeps being too funny NOT to work.

well i guess that's it. gonna go to the movies and out for sushi. rainy day times.


  1. this is an exceptional entry. super well written and focused.

  2. haha, really? i feel like i'm all over the place. maybe you're kidding.

  3. i wasn't kidding. i think the all over the place was part of the charm. i love your blog. a lot.

  4. This post had all the best elements in it: work drama, drugs, scary ghost stories (for some reason the 80s garb makes her creepier), and things that remind me of The Simpsons ("It's my first day!"