So, after working as a bartending video girl (pretty much what I'm doing), I have learned that I have the invaluable ability to detach myself from what ever environment I'm in; I tend to be able to escape into my head. This is good, because talking to and dancing for sleazeballs is enough to sour anyone on people in general.
Working at the strip club definitely prepared me, mentally, for this job, because nothing shocks me anymore. And I know how to rebuff advances and still get my tip. However, that doesn't mean I don't recognize absurdity when I hear it, so:
It's the Sleazeball-Skeeza of the Night Awards!
Runner up for this award is Los Chicos Guapos, these two FINE Dominican guys who were, none the less, sleazy. They didn't speak any English, so all of our conversation took place in broken Spanish (me) and broken English (them). They asked me if I was Dominican and I replied, "no, I'm not Latina; I'm just black." The darker one held out his arm against mine and said, "I'm black too." (Yes! Worldwide brotherhood!). I tried to say, "well, yeah: we're all from Africa." ...But then he shook his head and said, "no, I'm Domincan." Alright, fine.
So then, after a while, the other guy says he want to talk to me, to my boyfriend, asks me when I leave for the night, asks me for my number. (Um... you don't speak English and I don't speak Spanish... what the HELL do you want my number for? ...I know what you want my number for, and no matter how absolutely FINE you are, you won't be getting it.). I told him, "I can't. I can't. I can't," ("no-frikkin-puedo!) about 50 bazillion times before he changed his line of attack and told his friend (who spoke more English) to tell me that he wanted to kiss me.
I've dealt with this before, so I did what I usually do: put on an innocent expression and hold out my hand to be kissed.
This freak LICKS my hand! So I lightly tapped the back of his, wagged my finger at him and said to his friend, "su amigo estå malo!" (Your friend is bad!). To which his bad friend shook his head and replied, "no mami; I'm good... very good."
Agh! You're a Sleazeball-Skeeza!
First Place, however, goes to: The Nerdy White Dude From Ghostbusters. (Seriously, that's what he looked like). He's sitting at the bar, alone, you know: looking like a nerdy perv with his beady little eyes darting to and fro behind his oversized glasses from the 80s. He says to me:
"You're really cute. You're beautiful."
"Thank you," I do the whole smile-and-giggle thing.
"Now, I know I'm like, an old nerdy white guy, but believe me when I say: I would fuck the shit out of you."
(Hmm... now where have I heard that before? What is with all these Nasty Old Men?)
"You've got a dirty mouth," I said.
"Yeah, and I'm kinda drunk, so it's even worse. But let me tell you; I don't think I could handle you though. I can tell you like it fast. I like to go for hours."
Eh-heh-heh-heh...
"Yeah, and like, I'm 39 years old, so the equipment is old, but it lasts for a long time."
Eh-heh...
Yeah. Time to skidaddle, you Sleazeball-Skeeza!
Honorable Mention goes to... the guy on the train who came up to me (I immediately shook my head... #1: even if I were going to give you money, I'm not pulling out my wallet to show ANYONE that I'm alone have cash on me at 4:30 am!) and said, "I'm not going to ask for any money, I just want a favor."
...lol. What?
Also, the guy who followed me at a block-behind-pace after I got off the train. I will be dressing like an orphan and getting off at a different stop or taking a cab from lower Manhattan from now on.
I'm not dumb and I won't be caught out here in some dumbness.
Tip Jar:
If you ever want to hear the most absurd, ridiculous conversations: be a waitress or a bartender. You will work with some interesting people from diverse backgrounds who have been raised to believe different things. They will say some stuff that you just have to shake your head and laugh at.
First, these two girls started talking about how fast vs. slow their pubic hair grew. Um... I'm really REALLY not interested; in fact, I don't want to hear that at all.
"Mine grows really slow; it's been two weeks and look..." one girl said to the other.
"Oh, no; I'm always shaving. After two weeks it looks like Don King up under there," the other one replied.
WHY DOES ANYONE NEED TO KNOW THAT!?
Sigh: another day, another $150 in the pocket. All I want is to pay my rent and bills for the next two months and then move on to a neighborhood bar for crying out loud.
LMAO @ the pubes conversation....WTF???!
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