|
|
Post by Brandon Price on Jul 29, 2009 16:21:40 GMT -5
Brandon was at his usual spot at the bar, serving drinks to the men and Sirens, as usual. He finished mixing a martini (extra olives) and gave it to the guy who ordered it. The guy then held out a couple of large bills. When Brandon went to get his change, the guy merely shook his head and made a 'pass' motion with his hand, telling Brandon to keep the change. Having calculated the difference in his head, Brandon realized that was quite a fat tip, as he put the bills in their respective slots in the money drawer. He figured if the guy wasn't so busy watching the show, he would have given a smaller tip. Well, that's how it was at the Siren Song; the customers are so in a trance that they give bigger tips than they normally would.
There was a nice break in the flow of drinks being served as the show escalated, and then ended. Of course, as soon as there was a break between shows, Brandon was bombarded with requests. Good thing he wasn't the only bartender tonight; there were so many people that a second bartender had come to work the same shift. So he wasn't alone. A peach daiquiri here, a Bloody Mary there... even if there were two bartenders, he still had a lot to make in the few minutes until the next show. But as they had been taught, if you timed it correctly, you could serve the drinks just as the next show begins, and get a better tip.
One of the Sirens hopped onto a bar stool. "Shirley Temple." she said, trying to catch her breath. She was quite petite, moreso than the other Sirens, and so she knew not to have any alcohol too early in the night. She had explained this to Brandon before (as well as her love of maraschino cherries) and so she always asked him for her drink, never the other bartender. He knew just how she liked it; extra cherry syrup and extra maraschino cherries. He finished mixing it and handed it to her on a napkin. "Thanks, hon." she said with a smile, grabbing the drink and rushing backstage to change before the next show.
Looking around, Brandon spotted someone who didn't have a drink yet. They were just sitting on the bar stool, waiting patiently. He walked up to them. "Can I help you?" he said with his usual small smile.
|
|
|
|
Post by Annika Larose on Jul 29, 2009 21:28:46 GMT -5
 C I N D E R E L L A ' S O N H E R B E D R O O M F L O O R[/color] SHE'S GOT A CRUSH ON THE GUY AT THE LIQUOR STORE[/color] C A U S E M R C H A R M I N G D O N ' T C O M E H O M E A N Y M O R E[/color] [/font][/center]
Nik slid her leg off her Bently, taking off her helmet and shaking out her hair. Some girls got their legs waxed and got other things waxed to for the club, Nik said screw it and bought herself a motorcycle with enough horsepower she almost felt it was too manly for her. Almost. However, she did like the stares she always got at the guys when she pulled up on it. They noticed it a lot more than they noticed those waxed regions of a girl. So, in the end, she felt she had been the smarter one in her purchase. Smiling, she pushed the bike into the back alley and got out a key to the fenced in region. She had permission to use it. If her bike was ever stolen, Nik might consider committing suicide. Instead, she patted the bike and put the alarm on. "Bye, Stacy." What? Boys named motorthings all the time, and she liked girl names for a manly bike.
Walking into the Song, she looked around. It would be a while before her act ever began. Tonight, she had been put as a last dance. She was on the floor in an hour, but she came early to see what she should be wearing. No girl ever wanted to be in similar clothes. Then boys thought the recognized her as a girl of the night and they didn't request her as much. Technically speaking, Nik could just start now. She was in tight leather pants and a bustier. The only thing that kept it from being bad was the fact that her leather jacket was on and zipped all the way up. She felt it was nice to show she wasn't working at the moment. Smiling, she figured she would grab something to drink before her shift started.
Heading for the bar, she slid onto a seat. Brandon was working today, good. The guy could make a drink good, weather it was alcohol drink or not. He was one of the few bartenders who actually got a huge tip from Nik and no complaining. She was nice to all bartenders though, even if she was a bit nicer to Brandon. They controlled who people noticed, so Nik had to make nice. She was always thinking a few steps ahead of everyone else. He seemed to notice her, though through the haze she wasn't sure how, and he asked her what she wanted. "I'm working soon, could you just get me cranberry juice mixed with sprite so I can pretend I'm getting a bit drunk." She smiled at him, holding up a five to show she was ready to pay whenever.
Thinking of her day, she sighed. It was busy, but she sort of felt like talking to Brandon. Lots of girls did. They thought he was the perfect GBF. However, she wasn't always sure the G went to the BF. She smiled at him. "I'm going to ask a question, and I want you to be honest. Do I dress like a slut? I know I dress not all that good, but am I slutty? I got called a slut four times today, and it was women I didn't even know. Of course, they had love handles, so I figured they were jealous, but I don't know. What do you think?" She raised a shoulder with a small smile. She didn't really know if she was being to forward, but she really didn't care. She was just making conversation.
Notes: [/b] Don't mind if I join in Tags:[/b] Well...you tagged it... Word Count:[/b]581 Outfit:[/b] Am I a slut??Location:[/b] A barstool at Siren's Song Banner Credit:[/b] Hm...Me![/font] Template Credit:[/b] MAKE A SCENE HANNA ! OF CAUTION TWO POINT OH![/font] [/left] |
|
|
|
Post by Brandon Price on Jul 30, 2009 13:34:18 GMT -5
Brandon chuckled at her request. Pretending to get drunk... he didn't get that (although it certainly wasn't the first time he got such a request from one of the Sirens). Maybe he'd understand it better if he was in different shoes, like those of a customer or a Siren. He just mixed the drinks, that was all. "Alright" he said with a nod, grabbing the cranberry juice and sprite and mixing them in a glass as she'd mentioned before serving it to her as he had more than once before.
He bit his lip at her next question. It was hard to define slut, really. Right now, she was wearing leather pants and a zipped up leather jacket. "Well, were you wearing that when the women said that?" he asked, pointing at her ensemble. "Because since you're wearing long pants, you could easily put on a tank top or even a tube top over it, and still not be considered slutty. Now if you wore Daisy Duke shorts with a tube top, I can see how some people would call that slutty." he explained. "But what do I know, I work at a strip club." he said with a smile and a laugh. He looked around to make sure there were no new customers on his side of the bar. Nope. All the bar stools on his side were taken by guys who were already drinking.
|
|
|
|
Post by Annika Larose on Aug 4, 2009 12:32:09 GMT -5
C I N D E R E L L A ' S O N H E R B E D R O O M F L O O R [/color] SHE'S GOT A CRUSH ON THE GUY AT THE LIQUOR STORE[/color] C A U S E M R C H A R M I N G D O N ' T C O M E H O M E A N Y M O R E[/color] [/font][/center]
Nik grabbed the drink. Turning it around the drink, she took a sip. It just didn't taste the same. She scrunched her nose at it. "You know, Brandon, you are good. However, I just don't think this has teh same affect on a girl. Disappointing. Pretending is getting harder and harder with each passing day. I miss drinking right when I get here. Of course, technically I never do that, but I still feel like I would miss it if I knew what it was like." Of course, she was only eighteen, but that was hardly something she really needed to tell people. She was supposed to be old enough to party and dance all night, to drink until she couldn't drink any more. Eighteen year olds were a bit young to be strippers.
Taking another sip, she wrinkled her nose and smiled guiltily, "Well, maybe I was in a leather skirt. But technically, I don't see the term slut as being a correct term. I mean, a girl could be a slut in a turtleneck and huge sweatpants. When did being a slut get described by what your wearing?" She looked at him, shrugging. Usually she really didn't think about things like what people though about her, but it was really bothering her today. Maybe because she was going to be turning nineteen soon. Usually, girls like her were in college. She was running her own ballet studio during the day, and stripping at night. She only worked. Only worked!
Grabbing a few cherries beside him next to the bar, she plopped one in her mouth. Thinking about what he was saying. "Why do you work at a strip club Brandon? I mean, you are a nice guy. You work at a good job that's not here. You are hot, you could get a guy or girl, whatever you are into, and you seem to be all around fun. You could be really good with any job. Why waste your time slumming it with all of us when you could be making a kill anywhere else you worked?" She didn't know it if was rude or not, she was really just talking to him, making conversation.
Notes: [/b] A warning, in the rules it says you must have at least three paragraphs to a post. Tags:[/b] Well...you tagged it... Word Count:[/b]365 Outfit:[/b] Am I a slut??Location:[/b] A barstool at Siren's Song Banner Credit:[/b] Hm...Me![/font] Template Credit:[/b] MAKE A SCENE HANNA ! OF CAUTION TWO POINT OH![/font] [/left] |
|
|
|
Post by Brandon Price on Aug 5, 2009 21:04:55 GMT -5
Brandon chuckled at what she said next. He knew she never drank right away, which was a wise decision since she was underage. Well, she was 18, but that was still a bit young to be a stripper. Then again, men didn't seem to mind. In fact, many of them preferred the younger ones, something Brandon didn't understand, but then again he wasn't the type to go to a strip club, even if he was openly straight.
He bit his lip at her reply to his comment. "Very true, actually. And I don't know, I suppose it's just strangers passing judgment on others based on physical appearance." he told her. "I try not to do that though. I don't see the point. All it does is lower yourself when you're trying to lower someone else, you know?" he shrugged. That really was the only reason to call someone a slut; to try and lower them. But the person really just lowered themself by revealing themself as one who passes judgement on others easily, right? Well that was his philosophy. And as Andrew Jackson (was it Jackson?) had said, calling a sheep's tail a leg doesn't make it so.
Brandon shrugged at her next question. "It helps pay the bills. I'm a certified bartender and when I was looking for a job, this place was available. I already knew a couple of the girls here, so I figured hey, why not?" he told her. "And to be honest, I'm still not entirely sure what to do with the rest of my life. You have your ballet studio, some girls here have other jobs... I have ballet, sure, but how long is that going to last? I'm not sure what I'd do later in life, so for now I do this. Maybe I can rake together some money and go back to school. Become a chef or something." he laughed. "But that's in the future." Brandon liked cooking; anyone who knew him knew that. But he wasn't sure if it was something he could do the rest of his life. Being a dancer was like being an athlete; it could only happen for so long, and once you show an inch of being too young, you're done for.
|
|
|
|
Post by Annika Larose on Aug 11, 2009 14:19:33 GMT -5
C I N D E R E L L A ' S O N H E R B E D R O O M F L O O R [/color] SHE'S GOT A CRUSH ON THE GUY AT THE LIQUOR STORE[/color] C A U S E M R C H A R M I N G D O N ' T C O M E H O M E A N Y M O R E[/color] [/font][/center] Nik popped another cherry in her mouth. It was fun talking to Brandon, she could see why all the girls were fans of him. He was simple and sweet, to the point. If he wasn't gay, she might be interested in him. She swirled her fake drink, taking a deep swig and finishing it off. Instead of asking for another one, she just plopped an ice cube in her mouth, twirling it around in her mouth as she watched him a little bit. It really made her wonder if he was gay or not. She really felt like he was straight, but if you called someone something long enough, doubt started to twirl around in you. It couldn't be helped. She didn't care if he was gay, who really cared now, but she just couldn't help but wonder if she was wasting a good flirt of the evening.
She considered his words for a few minutes. "I could see that. You are a good bartender, girls love you. You make a mean drink, your good to look at, and you make for good conversation. So it's good you found your niche for the time being. I'm a lot like you, actually. I don't have one place. Yeah, I teach little kids to dance, but it's more o fa right here, right now situation. Once I figure everything out, I hope to have a all I ever wanted. I'm glad you are a futuristic kind of guy, me too. Looks like we have plenty in common. We have enough in common for you to get me another one of these, just with a bit more sprite in it?" A small smile played at her lips as she slid the drink over again, ready for another drink.
She really considered asking him if he was gay or not. Really, but she almost didn't want to know. It took away some mystery from him, and if that mystery was gone she would be somewhat put out. She liked fake flirting with a potentially gay man. Sh eliked just talking to him. It made her feel so much better about the day to come, because tonight would be slow. She was feeling tired, and whenever she felt tired she always got the icky boys who were so disgusting it almost wasn't worth the money she would get out of it.
Notes: [/b] Hope you enjoy Tags:[/b] Well...you tagged it... Word Count:[/b]365 Outfit:[/b] Am I a slut??Location:[/b] A barstool at Siren's Song Banner Credit:[/b] Hm...Me![/font] Template Credit:[/b] MAKE A SCENE HANNA ! OF CAUTION TWO POINT OH![/font] [/left] |
|
|
|
Post by Brandon Price on Aug 16, 2009 1:47:25 GMT -5
Brandon laughed when she asked him for another drink. He grabbed the glass off the counter when she slid it at him and began preparing another, with more Sprite in it this time, just as she said. "Oh of course." he said with a small smile, shaking his head slightly. He thought a little bit about what she'd said. She was certainly right about him finding his niche. Even the manager trusted him a little more on his job because he was gay; he figured a gay man would spend less time watching the girls strip and more time making drinks and conversation. Only in this kind of business was it a plus to be gay.
Even though Brandon wasn't actually gay, he was good enough at his job and he didn't stare at the girls either. His first day had been a bit... weird, admittedly, but that was so long ago and he had since gotten over it. After then, it was all nothing new. Watching the girls tease these men... the same girls who were his friends. They took him shopping, asked him for backrubs... Nik was right about the girls loving him, but he had always thought it was because he was 'gay'. Despite this, something in the back of his mind wondered how everything would be if he was openly straight.
"Soo... what is is 'all you ever wanted', if you don't mind me asking?" he asked her, sliding her now finished drink back at her. He hadn't expected her to want more than to teach children to dance, and now he was curious. She had a respectable job (as long as the sun was out) and he was curious as to what she was really striving to reach.
[Agh, really sorry gone for so long...]
|
|
x
x
