Well, the timeline on this is gonna be a little fucked and this will be somewhat short, but we'll continue none the less.
Last time on Psykoboy2's Journal - Grand Total = $211
Tonight.....the exciting conclusion.
$211 for two nights work. Two nights at about 6 hours a night. This isn't me complaining. This is me rather satisfied.
But again, that conscience comes into play, doesn't it? Well, I've gotten good advice from two people about this. One of whom is reading this. To that person....thank you.
We had a nice conversation last night, both of us benefiting from it, I think. For me, because this person was very forceful with the fact that when I walk into that club, I'm walking in there just like those girls are...to get fucking paid. And that's what it comes down to. I do my job, I get paid. They do their's, they get paid.
I talked to one of the bouncers at the club and he seemed to say the same thing. Don't feel bad about taking the money.
The other rule I learned was to keep my mouth shut about my conscience.
*commercial break - the banana's are speaking to me in not a very nice tone*
I get to the club last night at about the same time I did the night before. I don't think they have a probelm with the time I come in there and I say that because these two nights we haven't gotten started till 7 and even then, there are not really any customers in the place. But, it's a good time for me to practice; to get comfortable. And tonight was different.
There were fuck ups, I admit, but most were on the girls part. I give them fair warning that they will be next and they all know to come up and pick their songs. Well, in a rush, the brain apparently feels pretty confident that on an unlabeled CD track 6 is the song they want.....when in reality it turns out to be track 9 or some shit like that. Not my fault. I play what they tell me.
My worst problem to begin with at this job has been what to say on the mic. I've got that pretty much licked. Course, now a whole week goes by and confidence will become a memory by then, but eventually, it'll all set in. Back to tonight though - I found myself. I found my on air presence again. I have said earlier the key to these jobs are being relaxed on the air or in front of a mic, and that's what happened. I worried not about how I sounded or what I said, and I spoke as though I was speaking to someone right in front of me. Makes a world of difference. Gotta thank my old boss Steve for that one.
I stay mainly in that booth. I don't see that changing really as it's a nice comfort zone and there isn't much smoke making it's way up there. The girls smoke...in fact, I'm almost sure they all do. And they all seem to do it in the booth...or at least have one lit when they come to pick their songs. And they talk to. So do I.
Towards the end of the night they talk mainly of money and how much they are going to have to pay to me and the bar and everyone else there. Most of the time, they walk out with very little during the week. Where as I walk out with *quick flashback scene begins* Grand Total = $211 *end flashback*. Exactly. Well, Mr. Big Mouth here talks to them during this time. Mentioning how he doesn't like taking their money when nights are bad like this. Some girls throw it off and say don't worry about it. Some, now that I think about it, you can see their eyes get so fucking big.
We'll call her Rosie. It isn't her name on stage and it isn't her real name, but I'll save the flashback and see if we can find the dedicated reader's here. Rosie is up in the booth and we're having that very same conversation. She walks out of the booth and back to the table she was at with a customer. I walk out and get a refill on my water.
*cut to me facing the audience breaking that stupid forth wall bullshit while the background scene pauses, and not that stupid everyone freezes shit, either, where you can see them blink and shit. Time freezes for them, just not me.*
I don't drink alcohol in bars. Never have. Maybe a sip or something, but it is strictly water. Same when I am at work at the station on the air. Water. Water. Water. Keeps me hydrated and alcohol just makes you more thirsty. Or well...me anyway.
*I walk back to the bar and the scene continues*
I get my refill and head back to the booth, passing Star on the way.
*cut to me sitting in the booth facing the stage and the camera, breaking again the fourth wall and talking to the audience*
No. Star is Star. I wouldn't change her name. Besides, it's only her stage name anyway, plus, I've mentioned her before. Her working tonight was a big help as pookim21 couldn't make it back for another night as she had done the night before. And having someone familiar up there with me for a while is always good to calm my nerves and feel a lot more relaxed. The other girls there just make me nervous cause I always fear I'm fucking up.
Now while I sit in that booth and facing the stage, there is a mirror along that entire wall. I can see who's sitting below me without moving at all. And in the corner, I can see Star walking around the corner from where we just ran into each other and she passes Rosie along the way. They stop for a minute. Or well, Rosie stops Star, they exchange words, and Star walkes off rather hurridly. She comes to the booth and tells me to shut my mouth.
*commercial break - the banana's again*
"It's the conscience thing, isn't it?", I ask.
It was. She said Rosie just told her that the DJ has a conscience. Star then tells me that there are girls here you can trust, and there are some you can't. Rosie, apparently, isn't one of them. Not that she's mean, but she found a hole...a weakness and she'll work that weakness.
Star won't. Star told me to take the money they give me and make sure it's the right amount. The girls there know what they need to pay out at the end of the night and if they need to work harder on reaching that goal and exceeding it for themselves as well.
*cut to a shot of me sitting at my computer typing, stopping and facing the camera*
Even though Star doesn't know much about me, she knows more than anyone else there. And she knows my intentions are good as well. So needless to say, no more talking about my conscience in the club or to the girls, because Rosie....she didn't pay me for last night.
Find the weakness and work that weakness.
*cut back to the club*
When it was all said and done, and I'm at the bar counting the money owed to the club from the girls, I get complimented on my job. That I seem to fall into my own up there tonight and that they think it's all gonna work out fine.
Next Time On Psykoboy2's Journal
It was just the way it came off. Contradicting himself...saying one thing and then a few lines later...saying something that completely went against his argument, or whatever.
I mean, my boss is okay with it and would never think of telling me something that I can't do outside of work, and that's cool. And I don't want to attack this person either as it should probably just be left alone, but it's just one of those things that gets under yer skin a little, ya know?
*Credits Roll - The End*
Okay, so maybe it wasn't as short as I thought it would be...