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Customer service… right. That might be helpful if she were applying to be a dancer.
She presses her hands together, and I practically smell the desperation emanating from her. She needs a job. And I need the help. This is our sixth month of net losses and I’m fighting for my life here. Had she walked in a year ago, when Eden’s was thriving, I might have put her on the poles, because no way would she be able to cover the lounge. But I’m already working the bar with Angela and now I’m desperate for any additional pair of hands I can get to serve drinks.
“Okay, great. Can you start now? We’re not really open yet,but I can get someone to show you around, get you fitted for a uniform.”
She rubs her arms like she’s cold and glances around the room, furrowing her brow in contemplation. Shit. Maybe I was too forward. I might have scared her off. Money might help.
“Are you okay with being paid in cash until I can get you on the books on Monday?” I reach into my pocket and pull out a wad of twenties, licking my finger as I flip through the bills. “Here’s two hundred bucks in advance.” I hold the bills out. “But can you stay until closing? We’re open until two.”
“Uh… yes,” she answers.
“Good. That’ll cover the hourly, and then I’ll tip you out at the end of the night.” It’s a bit more than usual, but the more hands on deck, the more drinks we sell. It’ll pay for itself.
“T-tip out?” she stutters.
I blink. “Yeah. Servers split tips after every shift. And on a Friday, you’ll usually make about three hundred, give or take a few.”
“Three hundred? Just for one night?”
Her naivete is amusing. “Three hundred in tips. On top of the two hundred. And if you’re any good, I’ll put you on the schedule for Saturday night and the afternoon shift on Sunday. Believe it or not, the after-church crowd is one of the rowdiest. I won’t be able to pay you those two days until Monday, though,” I continue. I can’t risk her disappearing after only one night by giving her too much in advance… it has happened before.
“It’s not simple work and your feet are going to hurt like hell, but if you hang in there through the weekend, you’ll easily walk away with close to two grand. Think you can do that?”
She gulps. “Y-yeh. I think I can do that.”
“Great. What you see here in front of us is the lounge. About seventy-five tables. This is where you’ll be working most of the time. You’ll take drink orders from the guests and bring them to the bar behind me.”
I turn and point at the bar. “When the bartender finishes mixing the drinks, you’ll pick them up and deliver them back to the tables. Pretty simple.”
“I understand,” she turns toward the bar.
“I assume you saw the stage already when you walked in.” I point to the semi-circular stage behind her. The stage is at the far end of the lounge, and there are two dozen premium tables lining the stage.
“Yes.”
“This whole area you see, we call it the front-of-house.” I sweep my arm, indicating first the bar, then the lounge, and then the stage. “Back there…” I point to the hallway on the other side of the lounge area, “That’s the back-of-house. Changing room, lockers, storage... Stuff like that. We don’t allow the guests back there.”
“Okay,” she answers. “Makes sense.”
“Great. I’m glad you came in, Laura. Shelly!” I holler in the direction of the back hallway.
On cue, Shelly steps out from the dressing room, adjusting her tits in her corset. “Yeah, boss. You called?”
“Shelly, sayhito Laura. Shelly will show you around.”
“Lara,” the girl says.
“What?” I ask.
“My name. It’s Lara. LikeLarra. NotLora,” she answers.
“Sorry.Lara. Got it. Shelly, please show Lara here around, will you? She’s taking over for Amber.”
Shelly plants a hand on her hip, the judgment in her gaze obvious as she stares at Lara’s outfit. “Good thing she’s not going to be a dancer.”
Shooting Shelly a ‘shut the fuck up’ glare, I turn around and smile at Lara. “You’re going to do great.”
The skepticism I’m feeling is reflected on Lara’s face.
