Oh my God, I am so hungover today. I drank way too much red wine last night and my head is throbbing. It feels like my brain is throwing itself around my skull, trying to escape. Ugh, this is all Big Earl's fault! The only reason I got drunk was to try and blot out the events of this weekend. And to get rid of the urge to kill Earl. It didn't work in either case.
You see, ever since the whole Tucksworth incident, I have been Earl's whipping girl. He's been punishing me by making Deelishus Diamond the Friday night headliner, while I have to work the unpopular Thursday afternoon shift. We all dread Thursdays because that's when the bus from the retirement home comes by. Those grouchy old men always complain about everything. You know, the food is bad, the drinks are too expensive, the girls were much sexier in their day, blah, blah, blah. Plus it's not exactly lucrative. After three hours of dancing, all I had to show for it was ten dollars in quarters and nickles, which streched my thong to my knees.
Then Earl told me he'd found a replacement for Tucksworth. I wasn't real enthused since I don't want just anyone throwing knives at me. "Is she a professional?" I asked.
"She's a great talent," he growled. "She's been dancing for years, but she's never worked the pole before. Get your ass in here early tommorrow and show her the ropes."
Well that wasn't very inspiring news. Pole dancing is an art, you can't learn it just one afternoon, but I figured it couldn't be too bad if she was already a good dancer.
Oh how wrong I was!
My heart sank the moment I saw her. "Hey, y'all! My name is Britney Sue," she said, while chomping gum, smoking, and guzzling a Red Bull at the same time. "That's sure a cute outfit you're wearing. Want to trade clothes?"
The new girl.
"Um...no," I said, taking a long look at her ripped up fishnets and grubby leather bustier. She smelled like she hadn't bathed in weeks. I glanced back at Earl, not believing he expected me to dance with this. He gave me an evil little smirk.
"Work up an act," he ordered. "Make it a sexy!"
Britney Sue let out a loud belch. "No problemo," she said with a big smile, "I can do sexy in my sleep!"
"Okay," I sighed. "Show me a few of your moves." I wanted to see what I had to work with. It turned out to be even worse than I expected.
First she ran around the pole in circles. WTF?
Then she did sort of a funky chicken type move, complete with arm flapping.
And then she kind of just stood there and pretended to hump the pole.
When she slid to the floor in a big finish, I distinctly heard her fart.
I was speechless! This was a great dancer? All of the other girls were snickering and the bartender laughed so hard he nearly threw up. I cut my eyes over to Earl, expecting him to be livid. Instead, he was gazing up at her with awe. "She's fantastic!" he whispered.
Earl, watching Britney Sue's performance.
Earl was so impressed with Britney Sue that he decided she didn't need me. In fact, he demoted me to a waitress, so I quit. How dare he treat me this way! I marched right across the street to Earl's biggest competition, "The Boobie Barn" and got hired on the spot. It's okay, I made some decent tips but I don't know if I'll be able to stand my new boss. His name is Tom and he's even weirder than Big Earl if that's possible. You won't believe the kind of freaky stuff he's into. Here's a picture of him.
My new boss. He likes to be saluted.
That nazi stuff creeps me out! But the good news is that he's only about five feet tall and all the girls say he's gay so I won't have to worry about him pawing me. But I'm still angry about the Britney Sue situation. And the very worst part is that she apparently sold out the house on Saturday night. That's right! "Fans" came from miles around just to watch her "dance" and lip sync to some awful 90's tunes. What is wrong with people?