Ginny's Story Chapter 49

Ellen and <Jinny.jpgWendy 1.jpg
Ginny's Story

A novel by Karen Lockhart

Copyright© 2018 Karen Lockhart
All Rights Reserved.


 


It's funny how things happen


CHAPTER 49

Around lunchtime I called Jean, giving her time for some sleep. I filled her in on my plan to apply for work as a bartender; oh yeah, also that in giving me the okay, Steve wanted to meet her. Jean said that it was okay, but why?

“Steve has seen you work kiddo, and was 'impressed'.”

“'Impressed' huh, did you clean that up?” she snorted.

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“Of course I did, he's a guy after all,” I paused. “Actually, it's too bad Kevin saw you, good thing he didn't see you last night!”

“Ginny, why don't you come to work with me at the Naked City? I can have you work with the bartenders there for a week. By then, you will be proficient, not tossing bottles around, but pretty good, good enough for the Candy Cane Club.”

Now I was getting excited; I could pull draft beers and make common mixed drinks, but I was slow, too slow. Working as a bartender for a week should fix that.

“What time do you leave?” I asked. “I would have to run this by Ellen to let her know.”

“Honey, I'll pick you up at your house, and drop you home later,” Jean paused, “I work from 4pm until two in the morning; can you be ready to leave by 3:30?”

“Sure, why don't you stop for me at work tomorrow? It's on the Lynnway, across from the college.”

Jean laughed, “We can kill two birds with one stone, have that Steve Brady there too!”

We hung up with her picking me up at the condo, so I could get some 'hot' clothes from home.

After hanging up, I filled Ellen in on our plans. Not only did I need to leave a little early that day, but for a week. She and Wendy would be on their own for supper.

As expected, Wendy was full of questions, asking if I had to work without clothes too.

That question got Ellen and I laughing. Ellen decided to fill her in on what goes on in a lounge like Naked City.

“Wendy, except for the entertainment, the waitresses and more importantly, the bartenders are just like at any other lounge. They are dressed better than at a place like Hooters.”

You could see the wheels turning in her head before she asked: “How old do you need to be to work as a bartender?”

“Forget it young lady,” I said. “After getting your GED, you are going to college, then if you want, you can work tending bar.”

I got a typical teenaged response, she stamped her foot, and shouted “UNFAIR!” before running out and sitting in the front seat of Ellen's SUV.

I told Ellen I had to go, and if she was still up, I'd see her when I got home.

When I arrived at the condo, I rushed to do 'clubbing' make-up, then grabbed a pair of smokey black stockings. After carefully sliding them on to prevent a run, I took a short black leather skirt, a vee necked tight silver blouse and a pair of four inch shiny black court shoes from my closet.

I had barely finished brushing my hair when I heard a car's horn beep outside. Sitting in our driveway was Jean in her little red convertible. Ellen had arrived by now and was introducing Wendy and herself to “Terri”.

Hurrying outside, after giving Wendy a peck on her cheek, I gave a wave to Ellen as we drove away.

Jean filled me in on what to expect at the club. The two bartenders were Susan and Tim. Jean had filled them in on why I was going to be there and more importantly, that since I would be learning, no pay for me.

We arrived at the lounge in Peabody just a few minutes early at 3:45pm. I followed Jean through the employee entrance to a small break room, then into the bar area. After introducing me, Jean said, “Guys, she's in your hands until I collect her at two.”

Tim showed me where everything was behind the bar and then gave me a small black waiter's apron. The first waitress came to the bar and gave me the order; two draft Millers, and a Scotch on the rocks.

This broke the ice and I relaxed a bit. Susan patted my back and said not to worry, most drinks would be that simple.

As the night progressed, Tim and Susan were able to have a short break with me there. My time came and after a bathroom stop, I slid my heels off and rubbed my aching feet. One of the dancers sat beside me and we gabbed a little. She remarked she hadn't seen me before. I laughed and said I was interning behind the bar.

The night flew by and soon Jean was handing me my coat. As I turned to leave, Tim grabbed my sleeve and handed me an envelope.

“What's this?” I asked.

Tim smiled and said, “Your tips; you had a few fans tonight Ginny. Normally we split the tips, but tonight, these are yours. See you tomorrow?”

I was flabbergasted, but squeaked out a 'thank you' and said I was looking forward to it.

On the ride home, I looked inside the envelope, and exclaimed, “Oh my gosh, $325!”

Jean laughed. “They must really like you Ginny, normally, the bartenders would keep all the tips.”

She dropped me off about 2:30. Removing my shoes from my aching feet, I quietly crept in, trying not to wake Wendy.

With a snort, she sat up, said 'Hi', and rolled over, softly snoring again.

After washing off my make-up, I slid under the covers of my bed and in a few seconds, was snoring too.

Wow, did 5:30 come fast! I followed the aroma of fresh coffee to the kitchen. Ellen handed me a big mug of steaming life, and a toasted bagel.

“How did it go last night? I tried to stay awake, but fell asleep before the Perry Mason repeat was over.”

Wendy staggered out of the bathroom fully dressed, and asked if I spoke to her last night, or did she dream it?

I filled them in during the ride to work. Ellen asked if I remembered my change of clothes. I held up my backpack, and said I would change at the club.

Ellen was busy checking with the finish carpenters and electricians as soon as we arrived at the job site.

Wendy told me not to worry, she could fill in for me, entering material slips and faxing orders for more material. My fee for this was filling her in on my night behind the bar in a strip club. Laughing, I assured her that I did not strip, and was so busy I only saw Terri's tiger act.

“Aunt Ginny, how old must you be to tend bar?”

“A waitress must be eighteen to serve alcohol. I'm not sure about the bartenders, but I think you need to be twenty-one.”

Ellen sat beside her when I was answering, and asked her why.

“Auntie, wouldn't make more sense for me to go to a bartender's school, then a two year college? I would work at a regular restaurant or night club, not a place like the Naked City.”

Ellen and I looked at each other, surprised at how maturely she presented her case.

Jean picked me up at three in the afternoon, early enough for me to change before my shift. She teased me saying I really only needed a thong. That earned her a playful punch in her bicep.

Susan and Tim warmly greeted me, “Back again for more? Well this is Friday, and you will be hustling your buns tonight.”

It was busy as soon as we opened! Several times as I bent over for more ice, my bum was softly patted. Eagle-eyed Tim saw this and warned the offender that the next time he was out. Tim wasn't that scary, but the bouncer was! He came running over at a signal from Sue.

They took time to show me some common drinks, and where the computer was under the bar with the 'bartender's guide'.

Soon 2am came and as I slipped off my heels, Susan handed me a thick envelope. “This is your split of tips, you earned it tonight, honey.”

As Jean and I walked to her car, I peaked inside and squeaked at the amount.

“How much this time?” Jean asked.

“Jean, it's over $450! They split it evenly. I'm going to give it back tomorrow!”

“No you won't, you earned that money. Remember, you aren't being paid, but between my acts, I noticed the bar was busier, with more patrons sitting at the bar then usual.”

Wow! Two nights, and I'd made almost $800 in tips! That's $2,000 dollars in tips alone for a five day week. Maybe I needed a new job, sorry Ellen!

The following day was Saturday, so I ignored my alarm, turning over until the urge to pee woke me up around ten in the morning. I had decided to skip my riding lesson, so I had the house to myself.

Over scrambled eggs (with a pinch of sugar) and bacon, I worried Ellen might slip and tell Pete of my undercover plans.

The phone rang and looking at the caller ID, I saw Pete was the caller! Oh,Oh!


To be continued

Many thanks to Bronwen Welsh without her encouragement, and assistance in correcting typos and sentence structure, this story would not exist.
Special thanks to Tanya Allen for her permission to use her Candy Cane Club in my story.


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This story is 1625 words long.