Hello, fellow readers. For the dozen of you that follow this column, you probably noticed that I decided to take last month off and let other folks take up space, while I attempted to refuel my muse juice. You see, I’ve been particularly uninspired as of late and that’s because I really don’t DJ much these days. Yes, I work weddings and the occasional private gig, but I’m way too old and white to be keeping up on the latest genres of music, let alone artists. But, it occurred to me that I still regularly host at clubs and I won’t stop hanging out at them...until I’m completely sick of naked women (which won’t happen anytime soon). Why not just dig into the customers? I mean, not the good customers—I’ve covered them before. I’m talking the shitheads. Just like political columns or anything dealing with modern ethics and morals, it’s much easier (and far more entertaining) to illustrate what we are against, than it is for someone like me to print something positive. Therefore, I want everyone who knows how to act in clubs to give yourself a cookie and buy a dance—you’ve earned it. But, to satiate the dancers in the dressing room who read this column, I plan on running this series for the next few months. This series is dedicated to the staff who deal with all types of customers, especially those mentioned in this series. Ladies, gents and non-binaries, I present to you...
Every bar has one of these and they’re especially common at strip clubs. No, I am not talking about someone on payroll (or contractor status) who is just lazy or a shitty worker. Rather, I mean the opposite—someone who is in no way employed or contracted by the bar, but who acts as if they run the place, because they’ve been hanging around longer than anyone else (or, they just act like it).
Usually, this person starts off as a normal, lonely regular, i.e. someone who supports the bar during slow days and still lurks around during the down season. Of course, staff and other regulars will begin to respect this person, but The Pretend Employee isn’t out for respect—they’re out for power. So, over time, The Pretend Employee tests the boundaries—being constantly asked to step out of the bar well area, using the club’s parking lot as overnight storage for his shitty car, "forgetting" to tip while talking to dancers at the stage and pestering the bartender about her failed marriage. From a DJ’s perspective, The Pretend Employee is particularly irritating, as they will often "pass on" song requests from dancers, who clearly didn’t ask for them. Trappi Swag is not dancing to Bob Seger, dude. But, if you insist, let’s give her one more reason to hate you.
By chatting with servers, strippers, door folks, etc., The Pretend Employee learns things about the establishment that are usually reserved for employees, before eventually "helping" by keeping other regulars (and newly hired staff) informed of rules and regulations—bordering the line between a V.I.P. and a flat-out snitch. "Oh, the pint glasses go down there," The Pretend Employee says to the new bartender. "Hey, don’t leave through the patio door next time," The Pretend Employee tells the smokers. "Oh, it’s okay...I can give them a ride home," The Pretend Employee says, referencing an over-served regular customer, who just met them a few minutes prior. Put simply, The Pretend Employee is every club’s worst asset, disguised as a benefit.
While they feel as if they’re adding something special to the club—even to the point of feeling entitled to compensation, perks and/or free entry—The Pretend Employee is by no means a high roller. Instead, they’re a consistent source of semi-decent money, for when the high rollers and weekend crowds are busy at work—that’s it. The Pretend Employee is basically a loss leader, in terms of any club’s bottom line. If anything, having a warm body in the club on a Monday mid-shift keeps the pretty girls from quitting altogether, even at the cost of having to deal with The Pretend Employee. But, if they are not corralled early in their attempted faux-career, The Pretend Employee will end up costing the club more than a few dollars in comp’ed drinks. Are you a stripper who is trying to score a private dance with the owner of the local sports team? Too bad, because The Pretend Employee won’t stop talking your ear off and now the new girl is stealing your money customer. Are you a customer trying to get a drink, take a piss or just make your way through the bar? Well, if The Pretend Regular has any say so, you’ll be stuck behind them in line at the bar, while they chat up the bartender, then you’ll get stuck behind them in line at the restroom, as they chat up the attendant, and finally, you’ll be unable to retrieve your belongings from coat check, because The Pretend Employee has taken it upon themselves to stand in for the coat check girl, who is taking a break and smoking a blunt in The Pretend Employee’s car.
Of note, do not confuse The Pretend Employee with The Owner’s Friend—a good customer type who may actually be a silent partner in the company. The best way to find out if The Pretend Employee actually works for (or owns) the club you’re hanging out at, simply stay until closing time and use the restroom, seconds before the final cut-off. When you’re done taking a leak, chances are, there will be a bouncer lurking by the restroom door, ready to remind you that the club is closed. While walking to the exit, see if The Pretend Employee is hanging out and counting their tips—they won’t be. Rather, they’ll be hanging around outside the club and they will tell you "Thanks for coming in, see you next time..." when you leave. Just ignore them and keep walking, otherwise you’ll be stuck sharing a cab.
Next month, we will tackle The Costume Lady.
