Life at TJ's Place
Friday, June 18, 2004
I didn’t die, but it was a close one. That’s a joke. I don’t post for a couple days deliberately, to give people the impression that I have a life outside of the club and this blogging. Then I’ll come back in a post and say, “Wow, what a weekend!” when really all I did was work and hit golf balls and check my blog. I haven’t been getting out much lately.

One of my neighbors is a pretty decent friend. He told me something funny the other day. He has a little Welsh corgi dog named Buster that he walks all the time around the neighborhood. People around here get very upset when you let your dog shit in their yard. My friend has been jumped a few times about it. So now he carries a little plastic grocery sack with him in his pocket, and when his dog shits in someone’s yard and that someone is standing in a window with their hands on their hips, frowning, my friend reaches down with the plastic sack, scoops up the poop and folds it up. He then holds it up to show them he scooped it up, and they smile and wave and maybe go Thank you with their mouth. He waves back. Little Buster wags his tail, and maybe offers a friendly bark. Love flows through the neighborhood again.

Only he doesn’t really pick the poop up! He’s used the same sack for several months now. He just makes it look like he’s picking it up, but he doesn’t. It’s still there. I said what happens if they come out and check to make sure you picked it up? He said no, people would not believe a person could be so shallow and devious. I said yes, you’re probably right.

Things are majorly blah at the club. This is the weekend of a huge festival in town and the parties and bands go until late late. It will be slow, which is good, but also this seems like the time that the weirdos always show up. Fantasy carwashing is in full swing, more popular and raunchier than ever (there’s probably a correlation there, but maybe not). The DOM didn’t die over the winter, as we were hoping. He’s back, and it’s just the same thing all over again. He’s been in the club three or four times already, looking like a little kid who really, really has to pee. If this doesn’t mean anything to you, you can read more about him back in the archives. It’s one of the first 5 or 10 posts, I think.

Tuesday, June 15, 2004
Walt told me last night that a kid who graduated from high school this spring has been chasing his daughter, who just graduated 8th grade. Because it’s summer, I had trouble for a second with the ages, high school grad and incoming freshman. I did the math, calculated the ages, took the square root of whatever and subtracted blah, and the answer equaled wrong. Walt is our senior security guy and he can kill you with his pinky finger. He said the guy’s been coming over to the house during the day. Over the weekend, Walt’s ex-wife called him and told him to drive by the house to see if his car was there. I don’t care how old Walt’s daughter is, I wouldn’t want to be sitting in the backyard with her when Walt walked around the corner. She could be five years older than me, and I’d still shit my pants. Lucky for the kid, he was gone by the time Walt drove by, although I would have loved to have heard that story (or maybe not...okay, yes, I would have loved it, unless he killed the kid, then no, but...)

I have to wonder what’s going on in that kid’s mind. It’s actually been with me all day. I don’t like the looks of his future. It’s funny because Walt is just mystified and I really got to see him for the first time as a parent. He’s not talking about killing the kid, which I have to give him credit for. All the bouncers were giving him creative ways he could cut the guy’s dick off (a Sawzall and a hatchet seemed to be the two favorites), but Walt was in lala-land. He’s more worried than anything else. He was just out of it all night last night. He’s one of the good guys. I try to remember how hard parenting is when I bitch about my job.

I’ll keep you posted.

Monday, June 14, 2004
Brianna is a dancer at our club who started as a waitress first, back when I was a bartender. She was a good waitress, but everyone knew that she had started waitressing just to get her feet wet because she eventually wanted to dance. All of the male employees of the club said things like There IS a God! when they found out Brianna wanted to try dancing, because Brianna’s a fox. That’s a really interesting thing, working with somebody for a month or so, fully clothed, then getting to see them naked. It was about the most excited I’ve ever been to see someone dance.

So, of course, she was great and everybody loved her. Her first song, all the bouncers and bartenders were doing the I’m-not-worthy bow at the edge of the stage and she got all embarrassed.

A couple weeks later, she opened up her set wearing her waitress outfit and carrying a tray. She was wearing glasses and had her hair up. Our waitresses wear black leather skirts, dark hose and their tops are called wing collared halters, which are like sleeveless and almost backless tuxedo-collared tops. They’re sexy in a tasteful way. They wear the collars open and bowties around their necks. So Brianna comes out wearing her waitress uniform and does her set. It was great, the whole strip-tease experience, taking off her glasses and letting her hair down, then the shirt came off (we have one dancer who dresses like a businesswoman, in a business suit with reading glasses and her hair up like that…the guys love it).

One of the waitresses, Kim, came up into the booth and stood there for a minute. She then looked at me and said, “Just so she knows, that’s the last fucking time she’s wearing that outfit on stage,” and walked away. I hadn’t even thought about that. The waitresses all took offense, and I don’t blame them. The rest of the night, the guys were all like, “Hey, when’s your turn up there on the stage?” to our waitresses. They were asking them for table dances, if they did anything special for an extra tip, the whole mess. Things like that happen all the time. We have one dancer who dresses like a little girl with pig tails and comes out on stage to the song “Lollipop” (you know, lollipop, lollipop, oh, lolly…blahblahlah) and nobody says a word (it’s amazing how fast she grows up over the course of three songs), but dress like a waitress and man, the shit hits the fan.

So, with a heavy heart, I had to confiscate Brianna’s waitress outfit. Mostly because the waitresses would have ripped her hair out if she ever wore it again, but also partly because the outfit belongs to the club, anyway.

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