The first customer I sat with had made friends with the two women next to him.
“They’re nasty,” he told me.
“Well you know they come here often so they rate the girls as they dance and tell me who does what.”
That’s really great.
Three hours later, long after he left, they’re still here and haven’t tipped anyone.

There’s a man who’s been drinking water this whole time and told me cheerfully, “you’ll have better luck with anyone else, you’re pretty.” Patted my bum.

Four guys here relaxing after work, two hours now. They’re just here relaxing, thanks, they don’t want company and they don’t want to sit at the rack and they deeply resent the implication that a sports bar might be a better place for them.

The bar back is in here on his off day.

Six youngish women and two gay guys. Four dollars hit the stage in two hours, smiles and thumbs up when I asked if they knew we only make tips.


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