Friday, March 14, 2008

Dire situations call for extreme measures.


This is a problem.


No, the game isn't a problem I happen to have champion skills and have reigning title holder positions in this game, but when you apply for a job where BEER PONG is present, along with: stripper poles (not actual strippers they're just available for drunk girls acting like strippers) You've reached an exciting new low.

The downside to getting into the world of freelancing is that when you're piecing together jobs and a huge chunk of your time is spent doing things that don't pay (but will eventually if God shines his golden (actual gold will do) good graces upon me) you often run the risk of one of those jobs not being so consistent. When my boss from my "money job" called this yesterday and told me I had this weekend and next weekend off, he was expecting to hear jubilation to not have to work into the oh so wee hours on my Saturday nights, instead he received instant PANIC from me."OH SHIT, NO NO, I NEED TO WORK." I pleaded sort of pathetically and to no avail.....

....found myself skipping into a bar that had a chalkboard sign on the street stating "SEEKING DOOR GIRL. $2 Miller Lites, $3 wells and KARAOKE! ALL NIGHT." Door girl couldn't be that bad, I sit at the door and check I.D.'s and chat to strangers (my favorite typing of chatting) and then get cash at the end of the night, perfect. Seedy and totally below my standards but a girls gotta go what a girls gotta do-or something.

And oh shit, the karaoke would be enough to entertain me. I figured I do this "door job" for two weeks, then I'll quit when my real job comes back to me...

"CAN YOU STAY TONIGHT? RIGHT NOW." Um, I love this, (asshole)- how people interviewing you can take full advantage of your desperation and immediately put you to work, next thing I know I have three pitchers of beer spilling onto my hands and my cute beige vintage boots and 60's style dress. Fantastic. And definitely not bar wear.
"HERE HAVE A SHOT. MEET INGA, SHE'LL TRAIN YOU." My ear is officially covered in my "new boss'" spit, and I feel slightly violated.
INGA, my dear girl is drunk...9:30, already completely hammered and serving the people. I can already tell this is not going to be the gig for me, apparently the asshole didn't mention DOOR GIRL means motherfucking cocktail waitress to masses of drunken beer pongers and NYU doucheness.
"I don't get good tips, but I get TWO FREE DRINKS! AND SHOTS ALL NIGHT!" In the job description they should have just put, "seeking future alcoholics", also another category I'd like to skip out on, though I love the drink, I love to sit and drink, preferably with a nice meal- I'm not a feign enough to push my cleavage onto chests of drunk boys to get them to buy me a shot. My boob pressing is reserved for those who deserve it, (like the hot boy running karaoke, did I mention that I may take this job just so I can know him?)

2 hours pass, I'm still "training" and involuntarily taking in the scents of sweaty men brushing past me and peeking down my dress through their black furry eyebrows and tequila breathe. Excuse me, move the fuck out of my way before I pour an entire pitcher down your pants, eager beaver.

I have decided to detach myself from my body- I am officially floating above it, looking down and saying, out of body is the best in shitty situations; FLOAT "Dear Chelsea, what are you doing. leave. Go beg on street corners before working in this helllllll dive."

After some group of co-workers performed a killer karaoke rendition of The Beatles "The continuing Story of Bungalow Bill", which by the way, drunk people repeating the words- BUNGALOW BILL, over and over while clutching to a microphone and a stripper pole, is. pure. priceless. entertainment. I decided, give me my free drink- my jacket, and give me that pen....

"HEY, Can you sneak me in if I wanted to sing a song??" Batting my eye lashes.

HOT KARAOKE MAN, "Yeah kid, sure." oh. I love you.
"UP NEXT, OUR NEEEEWWWW EMPLOYEEEE.....MISS CHELSEAAAAAAA" New, fucking, employee.

Fuck it. I'm at least doing some karaoke before I flee, I chose Susan Tedeschi's "Just Won't Burn" and sang my bluesy little soul out until beer pongers, and the sloshed twenty somethings were cheering in their best bellowing, wasted wails.
I got a few whispers on the way out, "yoooo, you totally did like, fuckin' professional karaoke...shiiit...." Thank you Mr. Jack Daniels, I appreciate it, now- move so I can run and never, ever return....

I'm scheduled to work tonight, After some thought, I've simply decided, there is a certain point in your life, no matter the low- where you cannot tip me 2 dollars to be your beer maid. I've done that. I love sleep, I love getting home and hanging out in my jamis until 1am, not a tight t-shirt covered in someones happy hour draft. I don't want to take shots with strangers, I don't want my manager touching my lower back and calling me sweetie....ever.

"OH AND TOMORROW, BRING YOUR OWN APRON."

Yeah, no. I'll eat bagels for two weeks at 99cents a pop before I wear an apron again.

35 comments:

jessica maria said...

Oh dear what a nightmare!!! I'm glad you decided to exit that scene. Phew.

(Also, I love Tedeschi's "It Hurt So Bad." I play it at least once a week.)

nicoleantoinette said...

Ha! Omg what bar was this?! You're fantastic. I bet everyone was falling all over themselves at how gorgeous your voice is.

Sizzle said...

"In the job description they should have just put, "seeking future alcoholics"" - HAHAHA sounds like it!

Yeah, eat a bagel and skip that gig. It's not worth it.

lspoon said...

Why am I absolutely in love with those kinds of bars? In.Love.

Mel Heth said...

I can't believe you sang karaoke in that situation! That's awesome. I never would have had the guts to do that. Made the story even more entertaining.

Dolce said...

Rock On! For the signing and the quitting!!!

Surfergrrl said...

you couldn't pay me enough! but hey, you got a song in!

lifeintheleftlane said...

I like the “sing before you run the hell away” move. Nice one.

There finally comes a point in our lives where we realize that we need to move away from the dive bars. Who would've thought? =)

Summer said...

I think most of that night deserved a round house kick to the face... Chuck Norris Style.

Although sticking out your arm and dropping the mic on the ground after your karaoke set would've been fantastic as well... I'm all about dramatic exits.. LOL.

Ashleigh Garrett Long said...

hello...i do not know you, but my friend sent me the link to your blog b/c it reminded her of my "serving stories"...this is perfect-i feel for ya. the floating thing? couldn't have said it better!

Maria said...

haha! that sounds awesome in an awful way. i think i would have stayed just out of morbid curiousity.

Michelle & the City said...

i wouldn't go back in either. sounds like a nightmare!

Mike said...

That's some serious class.

Could you give me the name of the bar?

It's gotta be worth the 8 hour drive.

ana said...

OMG sounds awful. Beer spilling on cute vintage boots -- did you tear up? I would have.

B2G said...

WHY DOESN'T MY PONG TABLE HAVE EDGES?!

somechick84 said...

Ahhh... I just took a "shot girl" job at a new night club, start in a week, hope to hell I can make it long enough to be trained as a bartender and get the hell outta there with some backup skills! Hey, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do right? Right?

Britt said...

awful! Glad you are skipping out going back. I could always fed ex you some food. :)

rs27 said...

Beer Pong = NYC. This is what I learnd when I lived there. Ok, I lied I didn't live there, but it was close enough. Ok I lied again.

Beer Pong is awesome. That is not a lie

Katelin said...

Oh man that is both ridiculous and hilarious all at once. Granted I can imagine it wasn't that hilarious to you while experiencing it all. But hey at least you can have a good laugh about it now.

readsalot said...

I would have fled the scene. You are awesome for even dealing with it for one night. Yikes!

Meghan said...

Wow Chelsea, you have balls for staying as long as you did. I love that you sang your heart out first.

hannah said...

haha. great story. your hilarious.

lovely blog.

just me said...

People in New York love to take advantage...

But YOU, my dear, are pure gold wrapped in chocolate. AKA, AWESOME.

Do not settle. Ever. In Men. In Life. In cocktails.

LOVE

Amanda said...

That sounds terrible! I can barely deal with drunken slobs when I am slightly intoxicated myself. I can't imagine dealing with them sober and on the job. I commend you for making it through a night...

Pink ditz said...

Oh no!! this sounds terrible!!! What a nightmare! I waitress at a restaurant which sometimes is crazy enough, but this bar madness I couldn't imagine it.

You crack me up though! This is a funny tale.

Tia said...

"I'll eat bagels for two weeks at 99cents a pop before I wear an apron again."

amen, sister. i used to cocktail at this officers club before i started doing hair...the happy-hour officers crowd was fine, but the losers that came in for singles' night were more than i can handle. we all have a price, but mine is DEFINITELY more than $2a drink/ass-grab.

Ashley said...

Good for you for not going back! What a complete mess, I hate hoosier people a bars...so disgusting.

Not my type of place either, I would much much much rather stay home!

coco said...

This sounds terrible, yet is a very funny story
so at least you got something out of it!

Joy @ Big Time Fancy said...

AHAHA what bar was this?

Also, if ANY of my bar bosses did that, I think my brain would explode. They're much more prone to mocking my sex life and poor decisions made while drinking.

kimberlie said...

i would have thought that aprons came with the job...!

eleanorstrousers said...

Reminds me that I need to be more grateful about my boring office job. There was a time when today would have seen me cocktail waitressing. Being a busty redheaded cocktail waitress on St. Patrick's Day is not for the faint of heart. Love your moxie! Though I would have taken another shot and used the mic to tell 'em what I thought... but I'm that kind of broad sometimes.

Heidi said...

Dude, that sucks. While I was in town, I figured being a dog walker would be the best job because
1)it gives you a great chance to roam the city
2)it is free exercise
3) i love dogs

Or at least work in some hotel bar on the upper east side where your tip average would be higher.

Meesh-elle my Belle said...

ilove susan tedeschi. and i ate peanut butter and jelly, 3 meals a day, for 2 weeks straight in nyc. totally worth it to have tequila breath in your face.

Meesh-elle my Belle said...

i meant to NOT have tequila breath in your face. clearly.

Princess Pointful said...

Fuck to the yeah on your last line.
(did I mention you have pretty much the greatest taste in music ever according to your music player?)

 
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