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Work Time Rant

August 30, 2007

JEEEZUUUSSS CHRIST! I fucking hate people! It fucking amazes me how dumb people can be sometimes. I work in the club business and I deal with these fucking idiots all the time, and I really don’t know how people like my boss have dealt with them for as long as they have.

It amazes me the level of stupidity and rudeness that people openly display in public. I run a gentleman’s club, and you would think that people who patronize a gentleman’s club would have an open understanding of what a “gentleman” is… I mean it’s in the fucking name isn‘t it!?


In my club we don’t allow cameras or cell phones for a number of reasons: I don’t need pictures of customers being e-mailed to their wives, I don’t need pictures of the girls that work for me showing up on the internet, and with the fuss about this new senate bill I don’t need any pictures that could be taken out of context being put in the hands of these ass holes from the C.C.V.

So I ask everybody at the door, before they even get a chance to pay, if they have any cameras or cell phones on them. If they do, I politely tell them that they have to take them out to their cars or if they didn’t drive, I can keep them behind the bar until they leave, but they can’t have them in the club… pretty fucking simple right? I mean, when you have a camera/camera phone you have to expect that there are some places that these things just are not welcome: Strip clubs, locker rooms, the urinal next to mine while I’m taking a piss, ect.

Inevitably, there’s always that one ass hole who will hold it up to show me and say “yes” when asked. Then when I explain to him that he can’t have it, he’ll ask me if I‘m serious, place it into his pocket, and proclaim that he doesn’t have one…………

Or, the ass hole that will lie to my face at the door, proceed to come in, pull out his phone, make a phone call, and then tell me when I take it from him, that he didn’t know. :\

I understand that your phone may be an important part of your life, and if you were born 20 years earlier, before the advent of cellular technology, that you probably would have died from not having it strapped to your hip like a six shooter in the wild wild west while you were getting your cock ground on at the titty bar, but I really don’t give much of a shit… *shrugs* sorry 😦

You’re guest in my house, I expect you to abide by my rules; no cameras, no cell phones, and keep your feet off of the furniture! Just because you paid ten dollars to get in here doesn’t mean you own this motherfucker! This ain’t your goddamned living room man! So don’t look at me like a total fuckin retard when I ask you to put some shoes on and take your fucking feet off of my tables.

In my humble opinion, one of the rudest things you can do to a person is ignore them when they’re talking to you, as if they are below you, not worthy of your acknowledgment. Let me tell you something; when you step into my house, I’m your host for the evening, not your fucking servant!


In my club, we don’t serve alcohol, the town that we are located in is rather conservative, and a liquor license is out of the fucking question. It’s only by the grace of all that is horny that we are even allowed to operate. Consequently, the easiest way around this is to let the customers bring in their own alcohol… we are a B.Y.O.B. establishment. It’s no big secret, we’ve been that way for a little over ten years and it fuckin works for us.

Inevitably we get people in that are not familiar with the policy, not a big deal. Most of them are happy to go get some beer from the drive-thru, and not have to spend the customary eight dollars per beer that most gentleman’s clubs charge. Hell that’s a fucking great deal, I charge you three dollars per person to bring in as much beer as you want , and the only stipulation is that it has to be in cans; no bottles. Win-win situation, right? WRONG! There’s always an ass hole in the bunch.

When you walk in, one of the first things you’re asked is “what can I get you to drink?” Your first drink is included with your cover charge, so you’re not even being hit up for money, but hay leave it to these idiots to fuck up a free drink, right?

“what can I get you to drink?”

“Coors Lite”

“it’s a B.Y.O.B. establishment, sir, we don’t serve any alcohol. I have Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, and everything you see on the back bar.” as I or one of the bartenders gestures twards the wall with all of the drinks prominently displayed on it.

“Na, just give me a Coors Lite”

“Sir, we don’t serve any alcohol, but you can bring your own in. All I have back here are Coke products and energy drinks”

From here the typical responses vary a little bit from “Well then just give me whatever you have on tap” to “I’ll just have a rum and Coke” or “Are you serious?”

“No, I just like telling people that… of coarse I’m fucking serious. Why would I make something like that up!? You think I enjoy standing here repeating myself until I’m blue in the fucking face, while you stare at me with a look of utter disgust because I’m not showering you with your favorite goddamned alcoholic beverages?“, but I can’t say that… I just simply explain the way our B.Y.O.B. policy works… again!

After that point, it’s about a 50/50 shot on rather the guy will go get some beer, or stomp off pouting like a little fucking kid, forgetting all about his free drink in the process.

“Budget Ballers” are another type that get on my nerves. A budget baller will come in “iced out” from his ears to his pinky ring, flashing a wad of money the size of a goddamned Coke can, get $20 in ones, and try to make it last all night… from open to close. Never getting a refill on his drink because the prices are too high, never buying a private dance, and never shutting the fuck up. Constantly claiming to be the biggest spender in here, nobody’s got more loot than him, check out his “bling”… all the while the older gentleman in the corner who never says a word to anybody has quietly spent almost a thousand dollars tonight. Meanwhile the budget baller is sitting in the corner all pissed off because he already went through his twenty dollars worth of ones, he wasn’t able to talk anyone into buying him another drink, and nobody will even give him the time of day. Poser.

Alright, it’s closing time and this means that my work time rant is fucking over with for now. Too bad I don’t have internet access here, I’ll just have to save it in Word and post it later. </rant>

  1. August 30, 2007 at 8:00 pm

    To many freaks..not enough circus’s!

  2. August 30, 2007 at 8:42 pm

    I guess all you need when it’s letting it all out time is: I hear you.

    I have a feeling Kilroy was here too!

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