Showtime Sunday

It's Sunday morning. The one morning I've allowed myself to sleep in. And, naturally I'm unable to. The rest of the house still sleeps. I'm so envious of that. It almost makes me unreasonably angry enough to want to start banging things around in the kitchen, opening drawers and stuff. Why is that? Selfish, I know. And so I sit quietly, hoping that one day I'll be able to sleep so well. One day...

But that day is not today. And I'm back to work this evening. It's the first night shift for me. If I work three days I get to work on the weekend nights. That's where the money is. But the place is also stuffed to capacity with girls at night. True, LOTS more clients; buts also A LOT more glamazons. They're these waif-like gazelles. All mermaid hair, bronzed skin, and slammin' bodies...just gliding/strutting effortlessly in these impossible shoes. I disappear among them. I'm hoping I'll instead maybe stand out from them to even just one or two generous clients.

Looking like this doesn't come for free either. I was given a schedule of themes for each day. If you don't show up in the proper attire for the day, you don't get to work. Many of them are "long dress" days. Now, believe it or not, I don't own long dresses like the ones they're speaking of. These long dresses could hardly constitute for a dress anywhere but in a club like this (okay, or maybe Caliente from what I've heard; but that doesn't count since it ends up being taken off there as well). No, these are long dresses made of the very thinnest, bounciest fabric. Sometimes it is only two pieces of one-ply lace panels stitched together at the shoulders. Convenient for easy and quick removal. A gal needs to consider things like quick removal, whether she can wiggle it down instead of over the head (some gals can easily get away with this when they have great long hair that they whip around anyway; so it doesn't matter. Mine gets messed up) if the "bra" is going to show and, if it is, if it's going to ruin the look of the dress. So much to consider. For such cheap little fabric, these things are pretty expensive. I know this because the new Audrey has to look at prices now (ugh...). And the shoes...don't even get me started on the shoes. I'll be taping my feet up for protection tonight. Just another little trick I've picked up in the dressing room back stage. Boy am I getting an education back there.