(The following is a piece I wrote for a creative writing class that I took this past fall. It’s one of my favorite things that I had written for the class, and I figured I’d share it with you. I also wanted to finally break the two-month dormancy of this blog, and hope to get back to writing more frequently. With all that out of the way, please enjoy.)
Okay, is everybody here? Alright. As you may recall, last month’s meeting ended on kind of a sour note, so I’d like to first apologize for my conduct. I had way too much to drink, and I said a lot of things I didn’t mean, so I’m sorry. I think we can all let bygones be bygones, and continue on as we always have in this business. Anyway, we have a lot to cover, so let’s begin.
First, I want to start by discussing last month’s numbers, which just came in. These numbers are absolutely inexcusable. How can you possibly justify these kinds of numbers? I am honestly embarrassed, as a male strip club owner in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, to be bringing in these kinds of numbers. I’ll have you all know that when my great-grandfather established The Hot Rod Ladies’ Club back in 1889, this is NOT what he had in mind when it comes to classy adult entertainment. He had created the simple concept of grown men shaking their unmentionables in the faces of America’s females, and you have effectively made a complete and total MOCKERY of his vision. I…I hope you assholes are proud of yourselves, because you have taken his dream…and pissed all over it.
We’ve gotten a few complaints, too. For instance, here’s one we got from Brittany Willis in Tulsa. I want to read it to you in its entirety because I believe it voices a few concerns that I think need to be examined. This is what she wrote, “We came to your establishment last month for my friend Tina’s bachelorette party, and we left thoroughly disgusted. The floors were dirty, the food was terrible, the music was way too loud, and your dancers just seemed like they had no passion. They even cursed like sailors. I was so overtly appalled at the behavior I witnessed that, since our visit, I have told all of my friends to avoid patronizing your establishment for future functions.”
This…I really…I don’t know what to say about this. Reading this complaint enrages me, disappoints me, makes me feel betrayed—all those things. How do you expect people to take us seriously as a legitimate business with things like that? Let me make one thing perfectly clear: I will NOT tolerate this kind of half-assed treatment our customers have apparently been receiving. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Ugh, this is ridiculous.
What did I tell you about language here? Huh? From day one, I emphasized that vulgar language of ANY kind will not be allowed as soon as you step through those penis-shaped doors. Honestly, you know, when these fine, upstanding citizens come to The Hot Rod Ladies’ Club for a night of classy adult entertainment, they don’t want to hear filth like that while you are giving them lapdances. It is completely and utterly unprofessional, and you know that it is against company policy. In fact, the next person who says one more of those words within my earshot WILL be fired.
Don’t test me, Tyler. I will do it, and your sexy ass will be out of a job. Sure, maybe they’ll hire you at the Chippendale’s across the street, but you don’t want that. Trust me. They don’t take care of their employees the way I do. However, if you just wanna make a career out of half-assing it like you did when Brittany Willis was here, then fine—I’m sure they’d LOVE to have you. But I’m only interested in guys who are really willing to put their dicks into it, and give their customers the ultimate satisfaction they desire. Am I understood?
Good. Now, let’s move on to a more positive note: next month’s teambuilding exercise. Rico has suggested miniature golf. Does anyone else have any other ideas, or are we all content with hitting a bunch of balls around?
Until next time,