It’s not just tractor guys at this convention. There are bulldozer guys as well. Nevertheless, there aren’t many women in the construction and agriculture equipment industry so the average attendee is male, mid-thirties to mid-fifties, and from the Mid west where the women are still bundling up their extra winter weight under bulky sweaters. Cha-ching!!!!!
The more I work at Treasures the more it becomes my favorite Vegas Club. Although it is highly visible from the I-15 at Sahara, it’s bit confusing to find once you are off the highway on the surface streets. The building isn’t really on a street. It is at the back end of an industrial park on Western Blvd, so you have to wind through a warehouse parking lot before you get to the club’s lot.
Friday night started out with the Mexican Octopus. He was from San Jose, CA and in town for his son’s soccer tournament. I guess he snuck out after the team of 10 year olds went to bed. “No..no…” I would say everytime I took his hands off my thigh and placed them onto the chair, “I don’t know what’s allowed in San Jose, but here you can grope the chair all you want!”
it feels weird. I’m never home on Friday night. I have an overwhelming urge to paint my face, do my hair, dress up in glamourous rhinestone gowns, and then take them off for random strangers. If I was your ordinary housewife that sentence would sound strange.
One thing about taking a long block of time off is that I look forward to going back to work. After a few days I start to miss my friends. I miss the music. I miss the cool regulars who are happy to see me after a long day. And, in the most warped sense…I don’t really miss the creeps I run across at work…but the creeps, jackasses, and weirdos are the ones that make this job interesting and give me funny stories to tell.
Tonight was an interesting Wednesday night.
First I ran into my old friend, Addonis the Greek.
“Hey! Did you ever find your phone?” I asked him. The last time I saw him, about 3 months ago, he was frantically searching for his cell phone that he SWORE he left on the table. I helped him move the chairs, looked under the table, got the floormen to come over with the flashlight….but alas his phone was gone. He left the club, drunk and grumbling about how everyone’s a thief, and he’s never coming back here again….
where ya gotta think……”Man, where do these people come from?”
My evening started out with “The Hugger.” This customer is a very sweet and childlike man in his early forties. I have known him for quite some time. He was originally a customer of my co-worker Ashley. However, since Ashley and I are both tall, blonde, and possess similar water balloons, he has a tendency to substitute me for her whenever she is not available.
I just had the kind of night every good stripper dreams about.
I had just finished one hour in VIP, and my spirits were high. I was already ahead of my monetary goal for the evening. I headed back to the packed main floor and started selling table dances without missing a beat of the first available song.
Cosmo, the absolute hardest working floormen I have EVER seen, discretely taps me on myshoulder and whispers “I have a VIP guy asking for you. He was here last night but you were already signed out with another client.”