A brief conversation… between me and a total stranger… made me laugh recently. I probably need to set the scene: A local bistro. “Retro night”. Disco ball. Dancing. Lisa. Me. A couple other gals. Our adoring Public.
Over time, I have developed a friendship with the DJ and his darling girlfriend. I know, you are surprised. I am so off-putting. But, you just can’t fight love, and my DJ and his darling love me. I had them at glitter… Aaaanywhos… A few weeks ago there was a serious boogie need, so we headed to the bistro over there to get a bit of a groove on. For the record, it was the same day as my 18 mile run, but I am insane and could not resist the call of the wild groove. It’s an illness. Obviously.
So, we wuz hangin’ with our homies… sharin’ time between the dance floor and kickin’ it fa’ realz up in our “VIP spot” by the the DJ. *delusion of grandeur in full-swing right about now*… I was exiting the dance floor… heading back to my “VIP spot” to catch a breath and re-hydrate. As I walked by, a man tapped my arm:
Man: Excuse me…
Me: Whu? Um… yes?
Man: I’m sorry, but, may I ask you a question?
Me (disoriented because I think I had just finished doing the Roger Rabbit & a shard of glitter may have been lodge in my left cornea): Uh……. ……… …….. yeah…
Man: Do you work here?
My head: Uh… does he want me to get him a drink? Maybe I could get a tip. *light-bulb moment*
Me: Do I work here?! Nnnnnnnneeeeeoooooooooo… *cocked my head crosswise and all* Why???
Man: Oh, I’m sorry. It just… You… You just really get the crowd going out there.
Me: Oh, wow! THANK YOU!
I bowed curtsied limped away (remember: 18 mile run + Roger Rabbit + heels = peg-leg swagga), feeling a bit ashamed proud and tripped up the stairs to get back to my VIP table. And no. There wasn’t a pole. I’m not that kind of girl. It’s not that kind of place.
Aaaaand scene. *clack*
But it makes me wonder… I could use some extra cash… I just don’t… How would I explain a job like that… to my preschool mommy friends… my pastor… my own mother?! “Yeah! I got this great job at the martini bar! I work evenings! I get paid to dance. I work the room. I am an entertainer at a local “establishment”. I am a facilitator of adult fun. I am a dance floor encourager!” Yeah. That’s the ticket.
If you have something funny to share -please do! Add your name and the link to your specific funny post below: Uh…Scratch that. I can’t get Mr. Linky to work… if you have a funny to share, link to it in the comments and if I can get Mr. Liny figured out, I’ll plug ya in when/if I have success…
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doing what you love is a sure fire way to not fail
Instead of getting paid, just look at it as another star in your crown. God does give stars for things like that, right? Maybe I’ll bring that up with Him next time I talk to Him. ;)
“Do you work here?” I’m LOVIN’ it.
You rock, Jenny.
I wanna be you in my next life.
Really need to see you doin’ the Roger Rabbit….
I want to be you, too! I think this is called “Bringing the party!”
Love this story! Sad to admit I don’t know what the Roger Rabbit is…though my imagination is running wild!
Roger Rabbit?! You certainly have courage…
between that and the glitter business, i think you are recession proof.
I am so sad there is no place around here (that I know of) to go get my groove on. When I go to a wedding there is not stopping… the embarrassment that my husband faces. We need to figure out who are mutual friends are (cuz I know we have them) and make them get married so we can go their wedding and TEAR IT UP. I will wear my sequins prom dress and you bring the glitter.
My link is entitled “Rat Bootie.” And it is what it is.
You might be on to something there!
BTW, I had no idea that is called the Roger Rabbit!