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Saturday, January 29, 2005


The Family Business....

Since my blog posts lately have been pretty "ho-hum" I thought I would dig into my past and share a little. This is all true. In the early days of my first marriage my ex and I lived in a large historic city. In this city my uncle owed two restaurants/bars. Although we moved there for me to work in an entirely different field I ended up going to work for my uncle at one of his bars. This particular establishment was a fairly decent restaurant during the day but after 8pm in the evening it, along with all the others, became a rocking college hangout. I initially went to work for him as a bar back and also I worked the door and was a bouncer. This place would get wild with kids shoulder to shoulder and back to back from around 10 till close. He had some of the hottest girls working there as waitresses. I remember one of them had a masters in math education and was making more money as a waitress than she could teaching school. There was a guy who managed the place for my uncle, two other guys who would rotate tending bar, a cook, about six waitresses and me. I saw some of the wildest things in this place. Things I had never seen before. Terrible fights, naked girls, random sex acts and flat on your face drunkenness. I can remember breaking up fights where guys would beat each other with broken beer bottles. My arms would get covered in blood while slinging these guys out to the street. It's no wonder I didn't catch aids. I remember, on many occasions, going up the back stairs to the beer cooler to bring down a keg and finding girls on their knees between the legs of some college guy, with their ass in the air sucking cock. I would have to shoo them away, but it was always a bit of a thrill to catch them in the act. I remember on fall Saturday afternoons, on the day of a home football game, rich drunk sorority girls willing to do anything for a free shot or beer. Showing their tits or sitting up on the bar, skirt around their waist showing their trimmed bush to a crowd of whooping drunk asses. I even remember one time where a girl stripped down completely naked and danced on the bar. It was hard for me to make her get down and dressed, but the entire front of the place was glass and any cop could easily see in and cause unwelcome trouble. I also met some interesting people at this bar. I once served Robert Duval a drink and even chatted him up for a few minutes. I had Andre The Giant in the place, Sissy Spacek and Anna Chlumsky (of My Girl fame). Then there was that nerdy guy who was on Murphy Brown, I can't remember his name. My favorite was a band that used to play in the club across the street. We kept a tab for them and they would often come over after their set and have a couple drinks. I never thought it at the time, but The Dave Mathews Band was on the verge of making it big, and they did soon after. Not sure if they ever settled up their tab, but I am betting they did.

After I had been there about a year the manager left for some reason and my uncle put me in charge. There was a lot of resentment from one of the other bartenders, but you just don't mess with blood. I worked hard doing everything from cooking, tending bar, opening and closing, cleaning and keeping the books. It was soon after that I began to notice things were not as they seemed. As I got access to the up stairs office and the desk/files I began to find things that I had never seen before. I came across stacks of Polaroid pictures of girls, some who were waitresses, naked or in the act of sucking some anonymous dick. I found little baggies of pot and cocaine and other drugs. One Saturday afternoon I confronted my uncle with the things I had found. It was then that he told me to lock the office door, sit down and listen. He explained to me, as he took several big swigs from his bottle of Jim Beam, that he had an interesting "gig" going on the side. He asked if, back when I used to bar back and I would come upstairs to the walk in cooler, did I ever notice how often the office door would be locked. Of course I had, and I had heard the laughing, music and female voices from behind that locked door many times. Well, as I sat across from him at the desk, he filled me in on all that I had seemed to have been missing over the past year.

My uncle introduced me to a term I had never heard before. The term was "Coke Whore". He explained how there were many women who lead pretty normal lives but were hooked on cocaine. He said these women may be waitresses or office workers, even executive secretaries. They all had their normal lives and seemed like other normal girls except they craved the "bump". They wanted to use the drug but they weren't able to get it on their own, or they were too afraid of getting caught. These girls were different than the "crack ho's" who walked the streets in certain parts of the city doing anything for the money to get a hit. These girls, or "his girls" as he called them, were attractive high class chicks who would do whatever he wanted as long as he gave them the white powder they needed. As he unraveled this "other world" to me he took from the top desk drawer a small mirror with a pile of white in the center. He used a credit card, an American Express as I remember, and cut off two lines. With a rolled up fifty dollar bill he leaned down and inhaled one of the two inch lines. He slid the mirror across the desk to me and offered the rolled up fifty. As I sat there with the fifty in my right hand he picked up the phone receiver and said to me,

"First thing we are going to do is get Amy up here to give us both a blow job. Then I am going to let you in on a little "family business."

I looked up at the TV monitor where I could see a black and white image of what was going on in the bar below us. Amy was leaning over the bar talking with Craig the other bartender, that short black skirt riding up to the bottom of her ass. I remember seeing Craig pick up the phone downstairs, hearing my uncle tell him to send Amy up and then I leaned over the glass. Using my left thumb to block my left nostril, as I had seen him do, I gripped the rolled fifty between the thumb and forefinger of my right hand and snorted it all in.

More later......

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