I decided to "bite the bullet" today and call the "gentleman's club" about a job. I've never considered working in one and was not sure how they go about hiring. I talked to a very nice sounding gentleman...
"Hi. I'm interested in employment with you, and was wondering if you could tell me if you have any openings and what I approach I should take."
"What position were you looking for?"
"Ideally bartender... or waitress."
"Well, I know they did some hiring this weekend. I'm not sure if they filled everything or not, but they were looking for some girls. You will need to talk to Becky."
Great! I should have gone there LAST week! But, I decided to gamble the gas money on a trip over in hopes of acquiring a job. I was getting a kick out of deciding what to wear. What DO you wear for a gentleman's club job? Not much if you want to be a stripper... but that's not what I'm after. So I picked through the closet. I'm not much of a "hoochie" dresser... so I had to get creative. I found a pair of black pants that make my ass look hot and my legs long and lean... and then a green shirt that I had purchased last summer to try to get a client of the salon to notice me in a "sexy" way. I put on the "bedroom eyes," smoky grey shadow with smudgy black liner. I think I managed a good balance of sexy and classy.
As I was driving over there the sky opened up and dumped a massive amount of rain on the highway. It was raining so hard I could barely see and was pulled off the road for a minute by a deep puddle. Just then my stomach began flopping around. Nerves? Or was this God trying to prevent me from seeking a job in a sinner's paradise? I figured as long as I didn't vomit all over my clothes... that I was going to move on down, move on down the road.
The place was recently sold and remodelled. Definitely not the dark and dingy place I vaguely remember from a drinking binge years ago. It was actually nice... and the bar was great! It is back along the wall... so I wouldn't be smack dab in the middle of the bouncing boobs. It was early evening and wasn't very busy. Every "gentleman" that walked in, headed right to the bar, which tells me there is money to be made there. Becky was very personable and seemed to be a respectable gal.
"I just trained one of my waitresses on the bar and hired another waitress to take her place. But I see you have bartended before. Let's give it a couple weeks and see how this works out. And then you can meet Jim."
Well, damn't! I want to meet Jim now! I need a job world! Unless I can find a free ticket out of this hopeless town... I might just as well rot here. Do they repo people?
"Hi. I'm interested in employment with you, and was wondering if you could tell me if you have any openings and what I approach I should take."
"What position were you looking for?"
"Ideally bartender... or waitress."
"Well, I know they did some hiring this weekend. I'm not sure if they filled everything or not, but they were looking for some girls. You will need to talk to Becky."
Great! I should have gone there LAST week! But, I decided to gamble the gas money on a trip over in hopes of acquiring a job. I was getting a kick out of deciding what to wear. What DO you wear for a gentleman's club job? Not much if you want to be a stripper... but that's not what I'm after. So I picked through the closet. I'm not much of a "hoochie" dresser... so I had to get creative. I found a pair of black pants that make my ass look hot and my legs long and lean... and then a green shirt that I had purchased last summer to try to get a client of the salon to notice me in a "sexy" way. I put on the "bedroom eyes," smoky grey shadow with smudgy black liner. I think I managed a good balance of sexy and classy.
As I was driving over there the sky opened up and dumped a massive amount of rain on the highway. It was raining so hard I could barely see and was pulled off the road for a minute by a deep puddle. Just then my stomach began flopping around. Nerves? Or was this God trying to prevent me from seeking a job in a sinner's paradise? I figured as long as I didn't vomit all over my clothes... that I was going to move on down, move on down the road.
The place was recently sold and remodelled. Definitely not the dark and dingy place I vaguely remember from a drinking binge years ago. It was actually nice... and the bar was great! It is back along the wall... so I wouldn't be smack dab in the middle of the bouncing boobs. It was early evening and wasn't very busy. Every "gentleman" that walked in, headed right to the bar, which tells me there is money to be made there. Becky was very personable and seemed to be a respectable gal.
"I just trained one of my waitresses on the bar and hired another waitress to take her place. But I see you have bartended before. Let's give it a couple weeks and see how this works out. And then you can meet Jim."
Well, damn't! I want to meet Jim now! I need a job world! Unless I can find a free ticket out of this hopeless town... I might just as well rot here. Do they repo people?
2 comments:
i can give you a job...
Really? Doing what? Dare I ask...
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