Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 3
Honestly, I think that it was my fault that I got kidnapped from Uncle Charlie’s in the village. This particular patron would find out when I was working and make sure that he was there when I was. This went on for several months and at first causing me to think that he was just always there. I did think that he was a really nice guy though. I would laugh at his jokes and tell him that I was flattered when he asked me to work a desk job at his construction company. When I asked him what I would have to do at this job he responded with a wink “Answer phones.” “Right”, I thought to myself just answer phones because he could tell how lovely my voice was as I screamed at him over the loud bar music night after night. Truthfully, I paid a lot of attention to him because he would have 5 drinks and tip up to twenty dollars per drink. The night I got abducted he was tipping fifty per drink. That night, I paid extra close attention to his stories.
Everyone in the bar was laughing as he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder and marched me out of the bar. They were laughing even harder while I was screaming “Help, this is serious I am really being kidnapped!” The must have doubled over, when he then pulled me through the door and started running up the block. All the while I am fighting to get free of him.
He gets to his car, fumbles for the keys while pinning me to the door, gets the keys in the lock, opens the door and pushes me in. I watch out of the passenger window as 2 bouncers and assorted staff tackle him. Suddenly it becomes a blurred sea of faces bouncing off the window. Every time someone jumps in, he flicks them off like flies at a banquet. I push open the driver side door and climb around this swirling mass of arms and legs that have travelled over the hood and ended up on this side of my escape. His bright red face comes within inches of me; someone’s arm is around his neck cutting off his air. “Get back in the car!” he gurgles to me. “Fuck you,” I respond.
I run back into the club; the manager has called the police. The police show up but they don’t want to take a statement from me and let the guy go. They figure that this is going to be a lot of paperwork and it figures low on the crime list. Another brawl at a gay bar “Alert the media.” The next night the owner summons me to his office and yells at me for leaving the club during my shift. He is also mad that a good paying customer won’t be back.
To make it up the owner gives me a new chore to bring people into the club. “I really don’t understand”, I say to him. “I have seen the same people here night after night.” I have yelled out “Merry Christmas” “Happy New Year” and “Happy Thanksgiving” to the same motley bunch. We raise a toast and down it. The new faces appear only on the weekend. “Well, we need to get more people in the club” he snaps.
I am not alone in my task. My friend Mitch and I get the job of decorating the club for Halloween. I met Mitch at another bar I worked called the 9th Circle (but we will get to that later in the story). Now, Mitch and I are the perfect people to be given this job, Halloween is both of our favorite holidays. We run to the store the next day and buy plenty of paint, cobwebs, lights and skulls. Mitch and I have decided to make the video room a graveyard (honestly, not too far from the truth on a nightly basis). I get to the job of painting tombstones on the mirrors. We have all day to do the job because the club will be filled in the evening, at least in the Village, Halloween is a huge celebration. I mean give gay men the chance to dress up and become anything that they want to be, the sky’s the limit.
I paint what feels like hundreds of tombstones and my arm is tired. I have written most of the staff’s names on the grave markers and Eric (one of the newest staff members) tells me that he can’t find his name. I write “Eric the Fish” in bright red paint on a grave and call it a day. He demands to know why I call him Eric the fish. Just the fact that he gets annoyed when Mitch and I say it is enough joy for me.
I finish up and run home to get into my costume. I have worked for weeks on it and it is perfect. Most everyone in the club is planning on going as sexy nurse, sexy kitten, sexy pirate or sexy construction worker. I on the other hand am going as Piper Laurie from Carrie. I have taken two ratty falls, combed them out so they are enormous on my head and I’m wearing a big pink muumuu that billows when I walk. I am impressed with what I have accomplished and get the desired effect when I walk down the street brandishing the knife above my head. “Oooooohhhh, you go scary girl!” Sexy Batgirl calls to me as she passes. “Work it out Mama!” sexy waitress yells as I pass. I am feeling good and looking fabulous when I enter the club.
To be continued………………
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.