I Guess You Could Say I'm Somethin' Like A Local Celebrity...

...cause I gets recognition!  But before I get to that, I'll give you the brief rundown of the daily events at the club:

Drama, Drama, Drama!

We had a big blowup last night about waitresses taking customers out of other waitress' sections and interfering with each other's respective hustles.  Tonight, one of them got sent home over that mess.  (In addition to the fact that both the customers and the doorman have repeatedly complained about her lingering at customers' tables waiting on a tip.  It was my impression that she had been told, again, repeatedly, that customers are not obligated to tip you; they do it if they feel like it.)  She thought the bar manager was joking when she told her, "you need to start looking for another job-- no, not a second job; a replacement job."  But she was SO serious.

Is That Cocaine in Your Pocket or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

As I took one customer's order, I noticed a large quantity of little plastic baggies peeking out of his jacket pocket.  Now, they could've been for seed beads or spices or something else of similar graininess sold in quantities suitable to be packaged in small pouches, but... I dunno... I started wondering.

Local Celeb!

So, I'm not even paying attention to the faces of the customers as they come up to me, so I didn't even recognize this dude off the break.

"What can I get for you, babe?" I asked.

"Hey Nikki," he replied.  

My head snapped up and I squinted my eyes at him, trying to place his face.  I recognized him as the guy with whom I'd bonded over speaking in unintelligible accents when drunk last week.

"Hey sweetie, how ya doin?"

"I'm good, I'm good.  Glad it's the weekend."

"I heard that.  What can I get for you?"

"Patron and pineapple, if you would."

One of the waitresses recognized him as a regular as well and tried to chat him up, coax a tip out of him.  And (insert Cheshire grin here), you know what he said?  

"Nah, baby, my tip is for Nikki."

Yeah, I got it like that.

So then, later, another dude whom I didn't automatically recognize comes up to me and asks for one of my specialty drinks, a drink that I modified, a drink that ONLY I make.

"Let me get a Nymphomaniac."

AND he made all his friends that came with him get one too.  MY drink.

Booyah!

QUOTE OF THE NIGHT:

The bar manager to the waitress who thought she could step in on other people's hustles and stare down customers for tips, after the waitress said, "I have the type of face where I can wear my hair any kind of way, even a ponytail, and still look good.":

(While laughing.)  "You know, I'm glad you feel that way.  I'm glad you have that self-confidence; it all starts from the inside."

2nd QUOTE OF THE NIGHT (because it made me so happy):

"My tip is for Nikki."