Tales from the Boobie Bar!
Hey y'all, sorry about no posts for awhile-I've been ill again.
Once again with the tipping thing.
You don't want to tip, and you're nice about it? Okay.
We'll still think you're a moron, but okay.
But refusing to tip AND being a douchebag?
Not gonna fly, folks.
S=Skye, another dancer I work with who I've been friends with for a few years
Guy1=Little emo fuckstick (apologies to any emo people in the audience, but no apologies to any fucksticks)
Guy2=Other emo fuckstick (who was quiet)
Me=Me, standing in the DJ booth, which was maybe 4 feet from Guy1, Guy2, and Skye.
Me=*bored and waiting for my music, sees Skye going around, watches out of boredom*
S=*approaches Guy1, smiling and talking*
Guy1=Why do you girls keep bothering us?!
S=Well, because you're in a titty bar.
Guy1=Yeah, but we're not going to tip!
S=And why is that?
Guy1=Cuz we're broke but still need to look at tits!
S=Then go see your girlfriend.
Guy1=*shuffles uncomfortably, looks away*
S=Yeah, that's about what I figured. *walks away*
Guy2 completely ignored her when she greeted him, and tried to keep his back to her as much as he could.
Skye came to the DJ booth, and me and her had a good bitchfest about it-in addition to those two guys, she had guys trying to feel her up, etc. I laughingly said I wish we could carry weapons with us, and Skye agreed. The DJ, being the type of person he is, quite suddenly pulled out his keys, fiddled for a second, then handed me brass knuckles.
o.O
"Do your set with 'em, it'll be funny. Don't let the manager see, though."
Me, being the type of person I am, agreed. After my set, I went to give them back, and he told me to keep 'em for my tip round too. So I did-not wearing them, but holding them by the index finger with my purse. The grabby guys didn't try anything with me, oddly enough :)
So I get around to the emo boys.
Me=So, I heard you were rude to my friend, there.
Guy1=She was rude first!
Me=Actually, by "I heard" I mean that I literally HEARD you.
Guy1=Oh. Uh...
Me=So why is it you deserve to see tits for free, hmm?
Guy1=Well...
Me=And I see you have money with you, so that's not the issue.
Guy1=Er...
Me=I mean, we're busting our asses up there for you guys, and not getting paid for it-don't you think we deserve a dollar?
Guy1=Well, I mean, yeah...
Me=*smiling, eyebrow raised*
Guy1=You know what? You're...a good salesman, that's what you are. *tips me*
Me=Okay. And just FYI, if you don't want to tip us, that's okay, just don't be douchebags about it. We WILL call you on it, 'kay?
Guy1=Understood. *looks a bit embarassed*
I went to Guy2, who tried the same ignoring bit, but Guy1 shook his arm and told him to tip me. Woo.
Speaking of DJs...
I'm posting this particular story on behalf of a DJ at work.
When you go to a strip club, you don't demand that your own music be played. The girls select their own music since, you know, they're the ones that have to dance to it.
You wanna hear something? Okay. Ask a girl. Be polite about it, and more than likely, someone will.
The DJ does not actually have to interact with the patrons at all, except when he doubles as a bouncer. The dancers are his customers-we pay him, not you guys.
Of course, very few people have been polite about it lately; from the drunk guy on Rock Tuesday that kept screaming "PLAY AKON!!11" to the young guys who tried to come IN THE BOOTH demanding Nirvana, to the guy who brought in a Snoop CD and tried to find the CD player before the DJ told him to fuck off.
DJ man got a little fed up the other night. He made a sign on his dry-erase board, and set it up in his booth so the customers will see. Of course, it's a sign meant for customers, so I'm sure they ignored it, but here it is:
Yeah, he was pretty fed up.
Now.
If you're already trashed, please don't come to our club.
Man and a woman come in. They smell like a brewery. Joy.
Bartender doesn't notice, and serves them.
The woman decides that the only dancer they want for dances or to tip at all was G.
After one dance with them, G says she really, REALLY doesn't want to deal with them anymore. They're drunk, loud, obnoxious and the woman was grabby.
Outside the dance room, the guy was dancing around in front of the door we have to use to get from the stairs to the dressing room to the main floor. He nearly knocked me over twice and knocked over S once.
The woman is sitting at the bar, throwing $100 bills down, then scooping them back up. Trying to brag, I guess? I dunno.
After two drinks, the two of them are completely obliterated. The man starts grabbing at dancers as they go past, the woman starts getting mad, and the whole thing just dissolved into her crying, him yelling, and the both of them getting thrown out.
Good times -.-
But thanks-
To the military guy who came in yet again, tipped me almost $60 just on one round, and was very engaging to talk to-you're awesome ^^
To the DJ from the first story-usually very quiet, but its good to see someone shares my sense of humor.
And to the other DJ for running interference for me while I was gone.
Once again with the tipping thing.
You don't want to tip, and you're nice about it? Okay.
We'll still think you're a moron, but okay.
But refusing to tip AND being a douchebag?
Not gonna fly, folks.
S=Skye, another dancer I work with who I've been friends with for a few years
Guy1=Little emo fuckstick (apologies to any emo people in the audience, but no apologies to any fucksticks)
Guy2=Other emo fuckstick (who was quiet)
Me=Me, standing in the DJ booth, which was maybe 4 feet from Guy1, Guy2, and Skye.
Me=*bored and waiting for my music, sees Skye going around, watches out of boredom*
S=*approaches Guy1, smiling and talking*
Guy1=Why do you girls keep bothering us?!
S=Well, because you're in a titty bar.
Guy1=Yeah, but we're not going to tip!
S=And why is that?
Guy1=Cuz we're broke but still need to look at tits!
S=Then go see your girlfriend.
Guy1=*shuffles uncomfortably, looks away*
S=Yeah, that's about what I figured. *walks away*
Guy2 completely ignored her when she greeted him, and tried to keep his back to her as much as he could.
Skye came to the DJ booth, and me and her had a good bitchfest about it-in addition to those two guys, she had guys trying to feel her up, etc. I laughingly said I wish we could carry weapons with us, and Skye agreed. The DJ, being the type of person he is, quite suddenly pulled out his keys, fiddled for a second, then handed me brass knuckles.
o.O
"Do your set with 'em, it'll be funny. Don't let the manager see, though."
Me, being the type of person I am, agreed. After my set, I went to give them back, and he told me to keep 'em for my tip round too. So I did-not wearing them, but holding them by the index finger with my purse. The grabby guys didn't try anything with me, oddly enough :)
So I get around to the emo boys.
Me=So, I heard you were rude to my friend, there.
Guy1=She was rude first!
Me=Actually, by "I heard" I mean that I literally HEARD you.
Guy1=Oh. Uh...
Me=So why is it you deserve to see tits for free, hmm?
Guy1=Well...
Me=And I see you have money with you, so that's not the issue.
Guy1=Er...
Me=I mean, we're busting our asses up there for you guys, and not getting paid for it-don't you think we deserve a dollar?
Guy1=Well, I mean, yeah...
Me=*smiling, eyebrow raised*
Guy1=You know what? You're...a good salesman, that's what you are. *tips me*
Me=Okay. And just FYI, if you don't want to tip us, that's okay, just don't be douchebags about it. We WILL call you on it, 'kay?
Guy1=Understood. *looks a bit embarassed*
I went to Guy2, who tried the same ignoring bit, but Guy1 shook his arm and told him to tip me. Woo.
Speaking of DJs...
I'm posting this particular story on behalf of a DJ at work.
When you go to a strip club, you don't demand that your own music be played. The girls select their own music since, you know, they're the ones that have to dance to it.
You wanna hear something? Okay. Ask a girl. Be polite about it, and more than likely, someone will.
The DJ does not actually have to interact with the patrons at all, except when he doubles as a bouncer. The dancers are his customers-we pay him, not you guys.
Of course, very few people have been polite about it lately; from the drunk guy on Rock Tuesday that kept screaming "PLAY AKON!!11" to the young guys who tried to come IN THE BOOTH demanding Nirvana, to the guy who brought in a Snoop CD and tried to find the CD player before the DJ told him to fuck off.
DJ man got a little fed up the other night. He made a sign on his dry-erase board, and set it up in his booth so the customers will see. Of course, it's a sign meant for customers, so I'm sure they ignored it, but here it is:
Yeah, he was pretty fed up.
Now.
If you're already trashed, please don't come to our club.
Man and a woman come in. They smell like a brewery. Joy.
Bartender doesn't notice, and serves them.
The woman decides that the only dancer they want for dances or to tip at all was G.
After one dance with them, G says she really, REALLY doesn't want to deal with them anymore. They're drunk, loud, obnoxious and the woman was grabby.
Outside the dance room, the guy was dancing around in front of the door we have to use to get from the stairs to the dressing room to the main floor. He nearly knocked me over twice and knocked over S once.
The woman is sitting at the bar, throwing $100 bills down, then scooping them back up. Trying to brag, I guess? I dunno.
After two drinks, the two of them are completely obliterated. The man starts grabbing at dancers as they go past, the woman starts getting mad, and the whole thing just dissolved into her crying, him yelling, and the both of them getting thrown out.
Good times -.-
But thanks-
To the military guy who came in yet again, tipped me almost $60 just on one round, and was very engaging to talk to-you're awesome ^^
To the DJ from the first story-usually very quiet, but its good to see someone shares my sense of humor.
And to the other DJ for running interference for me while I was gone.