Chapter 1 #2
“Hey, boss, we might need you out front. Things are growing tense with a few customers.” A feminine voice I knew shook me out of my head and back at the job at hand—managing Soul’s Striptease.
I glanced up to find Ori, one of our experienced waitresses, standing there. She had a concerned look on her face. I was leaning against a wall down the dark hallway that led to the dancers’ dressing room, my office, and other rooms off-limits to customers.
“Got it. Thanks for letting me know,” I told her as I pushed off the wall.
As I began stalking up the dark corridor to the main section of the club, Ori said, “You’re welcome. Is everything alright? You seemed to be a million miles away.”
I gave her a wink. “I’m good. Just woolgathering. Don’t tell the boss.”
She laughed. “I won’t breathe a word to the boss. Be careful out there. If you need anything, let me know.”
I gave her a thumb-up. Her offer of anything I knew meant that if I needed a drink or something to snack on. It wasn’t code for sex. All the staff were super helpful. If they weren’t, they tended not to last long with us.
The music in the main stage area was loud, throbbed through your body.
The lights were dim, changing colors, and flashing.
Surrounding the stage were your typical tables and chairs.
The walls were lined with booths. Along one wall was the expansive bar.
We couldn’t sell hard liquor, but we had plenty of everything else.
And there was a kitchen behind it where we sold bar food.
I didn’t bother to look to see which dancer was on stage.
I was busy scanning the darkness, trying to spot the impending trouble or one of my bouncers.
My gaze landed on one of my guys first. He was by the end of the bar, and he stared intently out at the crowded floor.
I went to him. When Dave saw me coming, he gave me a chin lift.
Arriving, I leaned back against the bar, mimicking his stance.
“Ori said you’re sensing trouble. Who?” I asked.
“Check out table thirteen. See that party of five guys? They’ve gotten progressively drunker and are saying shit to the waitresses. I warned them already. I know they’re about to push it. I can feel it. Hunt is at the door. It’s just us tonight, so I wanted to be prepared. I hope you weren’t busy.”
“I wasn’t. And this is what I’m here for. Let’s wait and let them hang themselves. Then there’ll be no doubt they deserve what they get. But let’s move to that spot over there.” I pointed to a bare section of wall with no booths. That would place us ten feet from the table.
“Good idea,” Dave said. I followed him.
It was a Monday night, not the busiest of the week, yet we maintained steady business regardless of the day.
The busiest was Friday through Sunday. Because it was one of the lighter nights, there were only two bouncers on duty.
Usually, though, if I or Wire, my club brother who helped me manage SS, weren’t here, there was at least one of our club brothers.
They were always willing to lend a hand.
Dave and I stood there for twelve minutes before things escalated.
I knew it was twelve because I checked my watch.
And wouldn’t you know it? They earned their expulsion by putting their hands on Ori.
She was the one assigned to their table tonight.
The guy who was the loudest talker and most boisterous of the bunch, a blond-headed guy, ran his hand up the back of her leg, trying to slip it underneath the bottom of her skirt.
Ori jerked away from him. She scowled and said something I couldn’t hear, but it didn’t matter. We would find out for ourselves what that piece of shit said. Dave and I arrived in time to listen to the little prick’s reply.
“Listen, baby, no need to pretend. We know that drinks and food aren’t the only things you sell here. And it’s not just your dancers who give out the special treatment. How much will it cost us for me and my friends to have fun with you?” he asked.
My anger was aroused by his touching her.
Hearing what he said, it shot up several degrees.
I wasn’t seeing red yet, but if he kept talking, I would be.
I reached him first. I latched onto the hand he used to touch her.
I gripped it at the wrist, applying pressure to the joint and trigger release.
He hollered in pain. Dave motioned for Ori to leave, which she did.
Blondie glanced up at me, glaring at the same time as he was hissing in pain. I had news for him. I wasn’t even trying hard.
“Hey, dude, what’s your fucking problem?” he snapped.
“I’m not a dude. And the fucking problem is you,” I told him.
“What does that mean?” he asked stupidly.
The others, while showing signs of being drunk, had fallen silent, and they were eyeing me like I was a cobra. Smarter than I expected. The guy on dipshit’s left leaned over and hissed to him, “Chill, Brian, don’t you know who that is?”
“I don’t give a damn who he is. He has no right to touch me.”
“I have every right. This place belongs to my club. I manage it. Anyone messing with our staff and the dancers answers for it, and to me. You had your hand on Ori. Hence, that’s why my hand is now on you. See the simple math?”
“Why would you give a damn who I touch? Unless she’s your piece of ass? If she is, she shouldn’t work out here where we can see who’s on the menu,” Blondie added.
I applied more pressure, causing him to scream and double over.
He tried to pry my fingers off his wrist, but it was futile.
I could bench press this pissant and three of his buddies at the same time.
They didn’t call me Hulk because I turned green.
Unless it was Halloween and the club’s kids asked me to do it.
They were asking me to do it this year, and I was thinking of giving in.
I kept increasing the pressure until I smelled piss in the air.
When I did, I eased off. He needed to hear this and remember it.
“Now that I have your attention, let me be clear. The only things on the menu here are drinks and food. We don’t sell drugs or people.
If you want that, go to one of the other strip clubs in Sevierville, Asheville, or even Knoxville.
We give you visual entertainment. Can’t you read?
The signs on the walls all spell it out. Here, let me help you.”
I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and jerked him out of his chair. Once on his feet, I half-dragged him to the nearest sign. I shoved his nose into it, causing him to howl.
“See, it reads, Do. Not. Touch. Staff. Or. Dancers. Or. You’ll. Be. Expelled. Expelled means kicked out.”
As I stressed each word, I ground his face into the sign. When I was done and let his face lift away, there were smears of blood on the sign. His nose was bleeding down his chin.
“Do I need to read it again?” I asked.
“N-no, sir,” he gasped.
“Good. Now, I want you and your dudes to get the hell out of here. If you choose to return another night, you’d better behave yourself.
If you don’t, you won’t like what I do when I’m really upset.
And you’ll be off work for a while. Plus, you’ll be banned.
That means never being allowed back in here for the rest of your life.
Go home and change your pants. You pissed them. ” I smirked.
Even in the dim lighting, I saw the large dark spot on the front crotch of his jeans.
I let go. He shakily returned to his table.
I was behind him. Dave had remained at the table to ensure none of his friends got the stupid idea to try to jump me from behind.
They were all sitting there with their eyes peeled wide.
“Let’s go. Now,” Blondie muttered.
And like there was a fire under their asses, the other four came to their feet and rushed for the entrance.
Dave and I followed them and made sure they found their way outside.
We watched all five pile into a sedan. Noting the make, model, and license plate number, I took out my phone and dialed a number.
“This is Cherokee County 911, how may I help you?” a woman’s helpful voice asked after three rings.
“I’d like to report a driver who I believe is driving drunk. He’s weaving all over the place. It looks like five men are in a sedan. They were not far from the Soul’s Striptease, heading west. I have the license plate for you,” I told her helpfully.
“Thank you, sir. Give me one moment.”
As she typed, I waited. Dave was chuckling. After a couple of minutes of back-and-forth and after confirming she had the make, model, and plate number, I hung up.
“They’ll be hating life, Boss.” Dave snickered.
“Good. They should’ve called an Uber or something—dumbasses. I swear, some nights, I wonder if I’m getting too old for this shit,” I grumbled.
Dave frowned. “Why do you say that? You mean backing them down and kicking them out?”
“No, I have the ability and the desire. I just wonder if I want to do this for the next twenty or thirty years. But if I don’t, how will I spend my time? Sitting on my ass isn’t me. So, I suppose I answered my own question. I’ll be here until they cart me out feet first.”
“It’s not such a terrible fate. Like you, I get tired sometimes, but this job is a good one, despite incidents like the one that just happened. And I can’t remain at home all day. My wife would kill me within a week.” He grinned.
I chuckled. I’d met his wife. What he said was true. She would.
Sure, it would leave me more time to tinker with my bike, hang out with my friends, and ride, but all of those things would get old if that were all I did.
“Well, then I guess that means we both need to keep our asses here,” I told him, clapping my hand on his shoulder as we walked back inside. The music hit us as soon as we opened the door.
“Let me know if there’s anything else you need me for. I’ll be making the rounds. I’m gonna go check on Ori and make sure she’s alright,” I informed him.
“I will, boss. Thanks.”
Dave went in one direction, and I went the other. I found Ori at the bar, waiting to pick up an order. She was talking to Ringo, one of our bartenders. I sidled up to her just as they stopped talking.
“How are you? Did he hurt you?” I asked.
“No, Hulk, he didn’t hurt me. Made my skin crawl? Yes. You’d think by now, I’d be immune to their crap. Thanks for taking care of them. I hope they don’t come back, but if they do, they’d better behave.”
“Believe me, Ori, if they do return and don’t behave, they’ll leave with more than one nursing a sore wrist and wet pants.”
“Wet pants? He pissed himself, and I missed it?” she exclaimed gleefully.
I chuckled. “Yep, big old stain, although I don’t think that’s all they’ll get tonight.” My grin widened.
“What did you do?”
“I called the cops with an anonymous tip about a suspected drunk driver. I was a good citizen and even had the license plate number for them and where he was last seen driving erratically.”
Ori giggled as she shook her head. “You sure know how to hit ‘em where it hurts. Maybe a few days in jail will sober them up. Do you think we’ll ever get to the point where no one thinks we sell ourselves and drugs here?”
“I hope, but I can’t say I’m confident it’ll stop altogether. Why? Is it getting to you? Are you thinking of quitting?” I asked because I didn’t want to lose her. She’d been here for five years. She was experienced, did an excellent job, and we’d miss her if she left.
“No, I’m not quitting. It’s only that I wish I could do my job without that happening, that’s all.
I love working here, despite my current little gripe.
No place is perfect, but this one is close.
Everyone in the MC treats us with respect and looks out for us.
You don’t get that at many jobs. Thank you. ”
I gave her a side-arm hug as Ringo loaded up her tray with her large order.
“Can I get you anything, Hulk?” he asked.
“No thanks,” I told him, then got back to responding to Ori.
“You don’t have to thank me. I like to help, plus, you know, I enjoy it. Let us know if you have any more trouble tonight. I’ll be here until closing, and I’ll be making my rounds more frequently.”
“Thanks, Hulk. You’re one in a million. Gotta go before the crowd gets restless. See you in a bit.”
I watched her saunter away with her loaded tray to a table of eight on the far side of the club. Seeing she was fine, I began my circuit to see if anyone else wanted to leave tonight.