...and One To Go. ~ Finale
# 3 - Trixie in Never-Never Land
My mother always told me that if I was going to make fun of other people, I should be prepared to also make fun of myself. In the last two NYE posts, I've been, well, less than kind in regards to the stupidity of others, so it's time for a little self-deprecation.
The year was 1997, and I was working for one of the oldest and largest nightclubs in Chicago. It had multiple floors, and I was scheduled to work in the upstairs club that particular evening. Each level had a different NYE fantasy theme, and every employee was required to dress accordingly. Ours, if you haven't already guessed, was "Never-Never Land." Gay, I know, but the money was too good to pass up. I was in line to make at least a grand that night. For that kind of money, I'd have dressed like a moose if they'd asked me.
Being twenty-four at the time, I of course wanted my costume to be sexy. Even then, as a bartender, I knew the value of showing a little extra skin. So who would I be? Wendy Darling? No way, no frilly Laura Ashley night gown. Tiger Lily? I'll never make it through the night with a long brown wig getting in the way. One of the mermaids? I'm not fond of flippers. Tinker Bell? YES!!! Sexy Tinker Bell! Perfect!
So, I went about putting together my attire for the evening. It came out looking kind of like the picture I posted above, but to that, I added four inch platform heels. I was definitely a nasty AND sexy Tinker Bell to be sure.
When I arrived at work that night, the boys I worked with were very pleased to see me, and not for the reason you'd think. The greedy bastards knew they were going to make ALL their money off of me. Joe was dressed as Michael, Wendy's youngest brother, and Andrew was Michael's teddy bear...complete with fuzzy bear slippers. Cute and creative, but nothing that would rake in the kind of cash my outfit would.
The night was going really well, but about four hours in to the shift, my feet were starting to ache. Maybe wearing the brand new four inch stripper heels wasn't the best idea I'd ever had. But screw it! I looked hot, & I was making bank. And then it happened...
I took one step to the right, & CRASH! In one split second, I had slipped and landed flat on my ass in to a pool of beer that had spilled off from the taps. I was covered from head to toe in the filthy muck from the floor of the bar. I had also broken the heel off of one of my shoes, and snapped one of my wings in half. So much for Sexy Tinker Bell.
Seeing as how those were my only shoes, and I couldn't tend bar barefoot, Andrew was kind enough to offer me his fuzzy bear slippers. He, apparently, was smart enough to bring alternate footwear. So there I was, Covered in shit, with an amputated wing, tending bar in soaking wet bear (not BARE) feet, and it wasn't even Midnight. Humiliating.
At the end of the night, I went to the managers' office to cash out, and Scott, the GM, just looked at me and nearly fell off his chair laughing.
"X," he said, "you look like Trixie, Tinker Bell's crack-whore half-sister."
And that my friends, is how I got my name.
On that note, I'd like to wish all of you a very safe and Happy New Year. But a word of advice...
I'd think twice about the stripper heels if I were you.