Ava Adore

Shift Roundup!

10.20.10, 10.22.10, 10.24.10, and 10.25.10, all 6pm-12am.

It’s been boring, what can I say. First we chalked it up to the playoffs, but the Yankees lost out due to the fact that they weren’t playing like they fucking cared—Come on. Come back out of the woodwork. You want my tits, I want your money. Fair trade.

Anyway. Each night had one good thing about it, like Keith and Bob, whom I always like bullshitting with. Ch. and I call them Penn and Teller; Keith looks exactly like Penn, and Bob looks close enough to Teller that we don’t care if they’re different people. Ch. likes to think it’s really them.

On Sunday one of my regulars, Charlie (of Proud Mary fame), came in to visit. I authentically love spending time with him. He’s such a bloody sweetheart. He just moved to Bayside, and I used to live in Whitestone, so we talked about that for awhile. He comes in with his friend Joe, who likes to hang with Lilah.

Charlie does this thing, I’m pretty sure it’s an unconscious tic, but when he’s happy or pleased, he makes little whimpery-sigh puppy noises. So if you’re leaning into him and rubbing his back and talking, he just kinda makes noises like this. It’s adorable but I don’t want to call him on it in case he gets self-conscious.

Monday I got to see Jim, who doesn’t get dances but tips well because he’s one of the liquor suppliers to the House and he does spends and I’m his favourite to chat with meanwhile. Last time we talked about Napoleon and Russia. This time ranged from Tarantino to Louis XIV.

Oh, does anyone know: Did Tarantino cameo in Kill Bill as he does in most of his other films? If so, as who? I need to find this out.

Other than that, not much went on. Hung out with regulars Tony, John and Jeff; got a few dances from randoms; nothing to remark on. I don’t remember what I wore, partly because I’m ADD with it and partly because Penn and Teller like to tip me to go through my wardrobe.

Douchebag Count: 0.
$hift Grades: C, C, D, and C, respectively.

Shift: 10.18.10, 6pm-12am.

I am happy the Yankees are in the playoffs.

I am happy the Yankees are in the playoffs. I am happy the Yankees are in the playoffs.

Maybe if I keep repeating it, it will become true. Okay—that’s a little harsh. Being a Yankees fan, I am happy they’re in the playoffs. What I am not happy about is that the Serious Faced Sports Fans—a large chunk of clientele—don’t want to be distracted by chatty women with only slightly concealed breasts as they watch the game.

Which means they watch the games at home with their Serious Faces as we get closer to the playoff’s conclusion. Which means I’m slightly cranky. Not as cranky as Summer Season cranky, but about as cranky as a child who has a lollipop, and is promised another lollipop next Sunday, and then, come Sunday there is no lollipop.

Spent last night getting only stage tips and heavy barside tips from Tony, a respectful regular who comes in and just blows cash on drinks and tipping but nothing else—he’s always high as a kite and a good time to chat with. Then the gents from the other night, Keith and Bob and newly Bart, came in and tipped me for about an hour.

“Vegas” Jeff came in and Ch. sat with him for a bit; we didn’t get to catch-up long, but he did say something really nice to me: “When I saw you when you started, you were a dancer—now I see you and you’re a performer.” Aw, shucks.

And that’s my story. I spent the entire night hanging with Ch. and Jo. at Tony’s side and then Keith’s side, with stage interludes. Lo. got her job back, she’s working Saturdays and Sundays. I still have bruises. I wore Closer, Snow White, and Punk Rock V2.0. I’m still not feeling too hot; may not work tomorrow.

Douchebag Count: 0
$hift Grade: C

Shift: 09.04.10, 12pm-8pm.

I’d never done a day shift before, so for shits and giggles, more or less, I decided to wander into the House (after calling in, of course) Saturday afternoon. It was a pretty unwise decision because I failed to take into account the fact that it was Labor Day Weekend.

Now, holidays are usually pretty hopping at the House, but I had a ‘night girl’ mentality—wherein we’re usually ‘competing’ for attention with other bars and general dance clubs—not the beach and vacations, etc, for the ‘last’ really beautiful weekend of the summer.

That being said, for the first 3 hours, we did not have one customer. Not one.

Sat with a guy named Ken who told me his love triangle life story and who tipped me well and was nice, so that was a worthy break from monotony. I got a dance, but I honestly forget from whom. Again with the not posting shift summaries right away.

I’d type up the costumes I wore but I think I did about 86 costume changes out of boredom, so just assume I wore pretty much all of them. Also during the 3 hour boredom gap I taught myself some new pole tricks. S’all she wrote.

Douchebag Count: 0.
$hift Grade: C

Shift: 07.12.10, 6pm-4am.

Oh man, where to start. This wound up being my longest shift to date, not really on purpose. I did a 6-2, as I tend to on Mondays, but wound up staying later because Todd, a customer I hang out with, came in around 1 with his friend George.

It was also Ny.’s first night, so that was good in itself. She seemed nervous at first, but by the end of the night she’d scored 2 dances all on her own, so she’ll do just fine. Not like that was a question: her pigtails and glasses pretty much make her a hit right off.

My customers are kind of a blur to me; this is why I try to update the very next morning—and not a day later like this.

I know one of them was a douche, and I tried very politely to explain to him why he was a douche as he tipped me, but, he wasn’t so keen on hearing it. He was a low-level Pimp Juice: he felt he should only tip a girl if he ‘paid attention to her’ (and chose to pay attention to nearly none of them).

After getting tired of getting too much sass from girls, who on the polite scale simply said ‘Hello’ and ‘Are you tipping?’ after waiting too long, and on the harsh scale some had a few choice words, he decided to leave. Godspeed, I tell you. I forget his name. Whatever.

Apart from Todd, who got 2 dances from me at the end of the night, I had 1 other dance from a gentleman whose name I never got; he never even spoke to me. I danced to Bad Things and he was so into it that he took me to the lapdance room immediately after I got off stage.

Other than that, Candi brought in a new outfit for me, Limewire, which I’m in love with. Also, the deejay for the night played a song for me that he thought I’d dig, so I was excited for that. I’ll post it in a little. No bruises; costumes were Miss Scarlet, Second Skin, and Yellow Card.

Douchebag Count: 1.
$hift Grade: C

Shift: 07.06.10, 6pm-2am.

I had fun tonight, even though I didn’t make a lot of money. I should say that was definitely by choice. There were people; I just wasn’t in the mood to hustle. I had one client and I was pleased with said client and that was that.

Hue, alias “Tiffany Bond,” international man of mystery, knighted last evening and gone to school in Moscow (“I meant St. Petersburg! St. Petersburg! Damn. Now I have to kill you. You know too much.”). Obviously, apart from the name Hue, all of that was horseshit. And it was amazing.

He was full of so many funny stories; apparently he comes to the House on an off for something ridiculous like twelve years. No kidding. He looked like Ken Jeong, but balding. He told me about the “Sasquatch Years” and horrible tales concerning his old boss’s breasts and more.

He was friends and a regular of Ag., but she came on after I’d already been sitting with him, so he kept us both and we had a great time. I love hanging with Ag. anyway—and she is a master on the pole, so graceful, and definitely one of our best trick dancers, possibly the best (torn between her and Kt.).

So Hue spoiled us rotten in tips, shots, drinks and dinner. I’ve never had a client buy me dinner at the House before (we have a great kitchen) and it was just really nice and fun and relaxing, which probably set my mood for not feeling like hustling the rest of the night.

After he left, I spent some time with Brey, who came in; she’s Lilah and my other best friend, as I’ve mentioned. Well, now she’s joining us! I showed her around, chatted her up with management, left her to the whims of our house costume designer, and she starts Monday as Nyx (henceforth Ny.).

So I spent the rest of the night bullshitting with Ny. and Sk.; Ny. met the girls and really enjoys watching Ml., her strippercrush, so we made sure to be around whenever Ml. went on stage. Ml. doesn’t do a lot on stage, strictly speaking, but she is such a graceful and elegant dancer that she is just a pleasure to watch.

The fire alarm went off last night… More on that later.

Costumes: Yellow Card and Miss Scarlet. Tried out 2 of the 3 new outfits. I’m on the fence about Yellow Card specifically because I tend to shy from bikini-style tops, but I got compliments on it. Music: Ditching some new ones, thinking of adding Heaven’s a Lie by Lacuna Coil. It’s slow for me, but I love it.

Douchebag Count: 0.
$hift Grade: C

Shift: 06.03.10, 6pm-2am.

Was a pretty slow night, customer wise, but the drama at the House was out of control.

Two girls, who were best friends, fought with each other—I’m not sure over what, but best friends always work it out. Then we had the Wet T-Shirt Debacle, which I’ll get to, and to round it off, some people I’d really rather have not seen last night decided to show up and visit the House. It was a joy.

Anyway, Lilah and I started the evening with Douchebag of the Night (which will get a separate post), in our new costumes; that, at least, was exciting. She got a lot of reactions with her new ‘naughty nun’ outfit, but I’ll let her talk about that. I wore Vintage Dita and decided actual gloves are not the answer, but the birdcage veil was very fun.

After that I sat with a large gent named Rob, who was a dealer of god knows what, but he was kind and flattering and nice to work with, so that was good; he tipped me nicely and got a dance from me. Sat with Jeff, one of our regulars, for awhile: it was weird, but nice, to be consoled by a client when the night took a hard turn for me.

Kept company with an Irish bloke whose name I forget because it doesn’t really matter. He asked me to come sit with him after a stage set, and he was fun to talk to, but he was That Guy who doesn’t tip, doesn’t get dances, and doesn’t want to acknowledge the place he’s chosen to walk inside. After 20 wasted minutes, I went to change.

Was chatty with Vi., a new girl as of last week, whom I enjoy talking to. Finished off the evening with a dance from a tattooed sweetheart with crazy blue eyes, Jordan. Then Lilah and I high-tailed it out of there at 2am. New minor bruise on my left ankle, but otherwise nothing I didn’t already have. Costumes for the night: Vintage Dita, Hot for Teacher, Boifriend.

Douchebag Count: 1.
$hift Grade: C

Shift: 05.17.10, 8pm-4am.

Sometimes things even out. Sometimes you have a night where you’re paid shit, but it’s so much fun it’s like you went clubbing with your friends, so it’s kind of like partying with free drinks and a small cash bonus. Other nights you have good nights, both with people and with money.

Then there are nights like last night. Which are rare, but they happen. I got paid a little more than last Thursday, but not by much, and the douchebags were out in spades. Until 2:30 am, it was going to be stiff competition for Douchebag of the Evening, until three gents came in and took the cake. More on them later.

I debuted my Snow White costume tonight, which was a huge hit, and got me big stage tips and my only dance of the evening with a drunk father-son pair, a double dance I did with Jn. I thought at worst the costume would be funny, but it’s actually really sexy.

After that I wasted time with a douchebag who promised me a dance and then didn’t deliver. He bought me two drinks though, he probably thought that counted for something. No tips. Saw Jeff, a regular, who wasn’t tipping as much as usual. And then more douchebags.

Most girls didn’t make money tonight, except for Jason’s regulars, of which Lilah is one, so go her. We did start 3 new girls, if they stick around, I’ll let you know. We didn’t need more girls. 1 is good, 1 is a semi-experienced mess, and 1 is dumb as shit. Think Karen from Mean Girls but not as endearing.

No news is good news: Still no new bruises. Though I did perform the classiest move ever and step on my left foot with my right heel—and that hurt. If it bruises, I’ll post pictures.

Douchebag Count: 5? 8? Too many.
$hift Grade: C