My thoughts on any given weekend night working in WI

  • “Hmmm, she REALLY needs to get those roots done.”
  • “Wow, she said thank you!”
  • “Damn, he’s tall.”
  • “DAMN!  He’s short!”
  • “I need 2 Advil liqui-gels…”
  • “That walk-by-farting was un-called for.”
  • “Some bad friend of hers lied to her and said, ‘girl you look good in those – wear THAT!'”
  • “Oh that couple will make a good post later on tonight…”
  • “Please stop kissing @ my bar for 20 consecutive minutes – her lungs need air and my customers need vodka with their olives…”

Sticky Floors as gooey as a movie theatre and a teenage boys magazine stash

You’re drinking; okay.  You’re flirting; fine by me.  You’re dancing and enjoying the music; fuckin’ fan-tab-u-lous.  You’re past tipsy but not quite wasted; I’ll call you a cab if need be.  But why oh WHY do females feel the need to take their shoes off in a bar.  A BAR.  Do you know what’s on the floor in here?  I know what’s lurking back here before we clean up @ night but my goodness…

Chicken wings, fry wedges, GLASS, spills, VOMIT, cigarettes and other QUESTIONABLE LIQUIDS.  That’s just nasty.  If your feet hurt, cop a squat or bring flats in those big ASS purses y’all bring to the place (which I also wonder why THAT is, but I digress…)

It’s nasty; don’t you have any home training?

Hell-o-ween Dress Unrest

Halloween.  Time to dress up.  Or down.  Or in most cases for the women, undress.

It was a slow night and conversation sparse, but one in particular took place that sounded way to familiar.  Dialogue that takes place every year about this time.  Freak Fest, Ahoy!

To make a long story not so long, a group of Valley Girls were talkin ’bout who they were going as this year.

Why do chicks always make such a big deal about the little dental floss costume they’re going to wear this year.  We need to rename Halloween, “Closet Whore Admiration Day.”  Oh c’mon, that’s all it is people; and you know it.  A lady in the living room and a whore in the bedroom.  It’s 2008 and by peoples behavior in the bar, they, well, let’s just say nothing’s forbidden anymore it seems.

I wish bitches quit being insecure about shit.  If you like dick (or clits if the case may be) just be you; don’t have a ‘holiday’ be your excuse to dress down.  If you feel comfortable dressing a certain way then let you be you.

It’s like people who always have sex in the bedroom and no other room in the house.  Once a month.  In the same position.  In under 20 minutes.

…or less.

Chickies, stop making excuses for wearing th fishnets and micro mini skirt or the ass-less chaps.  If you aren’t comfortable with YOU, you may as well toss in the towel right now.

Whether you go home alone and wash your face of make-up or home with a partner and your “clothes” end up on the floor like a prom dress and you’re face down ass up – dress the way YOU want to dress and do it smartly.

Please.

…and Thank You.

P.S.  On the same note, please ladies be FRIGGIN’ SMART when you’re out.


  • DO NOT Drink beyond comprehension.

Watch you ass because not all your ‘friends’ are good friends.

The Buffet Line?

I enjoy my patrons; really I do.  I know many of my posts seem like complaining but really for the most part, they’re observations.

Case in point; you want a couple extra limes?  Fine?  3-4 more cherries?  Cool.  But this is not the salad bar at the Sizzler.  I mean c’mon.  My garnishes are just that.  GARNISHES.  They are not there for you to eat.  Nibble and suck maybe, but not to eat. Continuously.  I had to say something.

“Are you hungry honey?  You know we’re serving food, right?  A Burger?  A quesadilla?  Some fries?  I can’t have you eatin’ up everything in my fruit tray baby…”