Seeing Red

A shark in a pantsuit.

Bottle girls. Someone looking in, would call us servers, waitresses, staff, in skimpy clothes. But from the inside, you come to realize this job entails certain duties. Duties, that sometimes make you feel as if your job is to be all of those things, and then some. The "and then some" part is where it can get tricky. Some days you're just a girl serving bottles, but other days, you may find yourself serving men who want more than just alcohol. I'm talking about drugs, girls, weapons, and much more. Where I work, a luxury club called Real Bad Habits, caters to men and women of the more elite status, you find yourself in these situations more and more often. My name is Eva Lynch. I've been a bottle girl at Real Bad Habits, for a little under a year, and the things I've witnessed here, are..well...questionable. But again, the money isn't good, for no reason. These patrons aren't just tipping for good service. They're tipping for silence, and discretion. Tonight was going to be a busy night, as it was not only a Friday night, but it was also Halloween weekend, the one weekend when our clientele are at their most wicked. I was already running late due to last second issues with my car, which was never a good thing, and I was sure to have my head ripped off by Natalia, the second I walked into the changing room. She's a ruthless, and cold woman, with a strict demeanor, and a no none sense policy. Natalia is what you might call our floor manager, but in reality her job entailed so much more than that. She was basically a glorified pimp, and drug dealer. Don't let the title of manager fool you, this woman was a shark in classy pant suits, and 6 inch heels. I could feel the impending dread balling in my stomach, as my taxi approached the building standing two hundred floors high, with blacked out windows. I didn't know what exactly were on the other 198 floors, all I knew was that I was headed for floor 199, and if I was lucky, I would be pulled into 200, the private room floor. That's where the most money was made, for both dancers, and bottle service, alike. I rushed inside and caught the elevator up. The ride up was always awkward, as I was standing there in lounge clothes, my duffle bag over one shoulder, my water bottle in the other, staring at the door, while the security man would always be found in the other corner, in an all black suit, hiding behind his sunglasses and unbreaking silence. He knew where I was headed, no words were exchanged, but I couldn't help but glance in his direction per usual. I always got the sense he stared holes through me, but I could never tell, due to his glasses. When the bell dinged to inform me that I had made it to floor 199, I pulled out a $100 bill and tipped him as I always have, just out of courtesy, and stepped off the elevator, into the sound proofed hallway. I mad my way all the way down the hall, to the dressing room, and found it in its usual hustle bustle. Dancers ran around changing clothes for sets, bottle girls changed out of clothes messed up by drunken customers, and other sat at their vanities preparing for their shift. I caught worried glances from the other girls on my shift as I rushed to my vanity and began to finish the parts of my hair and makeup that I couldn't do in the taxi. My heart raced as I struggled against the clock trying to make sure I could be absolutely as presentable as expected, and still make it to the floor on time. At the vanity next to me, sat a girl named Daisha, pulling rollers from her silky black hair, letting them cascade down her back. She was gorgeous, with the most beautiful complexion that I could swear was an angel made mixture of velvet, cocoa, and honey.
"Don't worry, Natalia hasn't been in yet, she'll never know you were late" Daisha assured me.
"She'll find out. If she hasn't already. You know how certain girls are, about running to her with every detail of our lives." I sighed as I began to apply my eyeliner, and falsies.
"Let the teacher's pets bark. That's all they are E, all bark, no bite." She laughed. Her laughter was always contagious, and comforting. She was the toughest woman I knew, and the only one I'd ever seen stand up to Natalia.
"Eva." My name was snapped out, like a bad taste in the mouth of the devil.
"Natalia!" I stumbled up out of my seat in a nervous fluster. My heart was racing. Would I receive a scolding? Docked tips? A slap in the face? It was hard to tell, as her expression never once has changed from the disgusted scowl she wore. She paused after my name, as if to tell me she knew I had broken one of the rules, but soon followed it with four more name.
"Daisha, Lana, Kiera, Rhonda. Floor 200, suite #1." she said matter of factory. "We've had a request for 5 of our best girls, as much as I hate to say it, that means you five. These clients are our most important. I expect perfection, precision, and you're 100% best this whole night. If I receive even one complaint, that will be cause immediate termination. If I find anyone was not show the proper attention, I will revoke tips for a week. Am I understood?"
"Yes ma'am" we said in unison.
"Good" she gave us one more cold glance "You have 45 extra minutes to prepare yourselves, I expect your best." And with that she exited. The second the door clicked behind her, the atmosphere seemed to sigh in reliefs. Questions began to scrambled as to enquiries as to who they could be, what we would do, we worked among ourselves to plan out the perfect actions to work in synchronicity, to ensure that nobody lost their job, or their money.
"We'll go with a color order." Daisha announced, taking lead of the situation. Color order was when we all wore a different color, to make it easier to know who was where, and easier for the men to identify us, as they rarely asked or remembered our names. She told us all our color, and and the plans, and we finished getting ready. I was given the color red, per usual, because Daisha insisted it complimented my strawberry blonde hair. I slid on a glossy, fitted red mini dress, with a bustier top, a pair of strapped, 4 inch heels, and decided against jewelry. I pulled my hair up into a long sleek ponytail, and put on red lipstick to tie my makeup into the outfit, and I was ready. We walked to the elevator together, and rode up in silence, stress in the air, but also a buzz of excitement. I was the only one here who had never been to the 200th floor, and I was beyond nervous. I didn't know what to do, what to expect, or how to act.
"Relax" Daisha whispered to me with a grin and a wink. I could tell she was excited, so I'm sure there was nothing to be worried about, and that settle my nerves a bit. In a few seconds, I would be stepping into a whole new experience, and I had no idea what that would be......Ding.