Sin City Edition (I suspect we’ll frequently be hearing crazy bar stories coming out of Vegas)
Poor Mr. Keck. If only you’d taken the time to get your edumacation on properly by studying my Macking With The Staff article, you could have saved yourself a rather awful engagement with The Man.
You could have found other ways to court your paramour or you could have found equally – uh- reciprocal benefits in someone else, like a nearby Bunny Ranch associate, no? Your former co-workers could have been spared that all too familiar (don’t ask me how I know) cool/hot feeling and subsequent bleeding out one often gets upon being pumped full buckshot from a 12 gauge.
Jessica Elizabeth… you complete me. Oh Proof nightclub.. you had me at boobage.
So, the genius powers-that-be at Proof nightclub in Chi-town decide it’s in their best interests to hire a stripper-looking bartender to boost business. They proceed to employ a stereotypical, bleach blonde bimbo; one with a perfectly matched, but ghastly, set of surgically enhanced, out for the world to see, double-dee endowments, an unbelievably even glow
disgusting spray on salon tan, and fresh bleached teefs.
Now, I may be wrong (does an Oh God 360), but I suspect that the manager/owner who did the hiring, in this case, was a dude. I also surmise that Ms. Elizabeth would stare like a deer in headlights, if I walked in and ordered a Perfect Manhattan, Seagrams V.O. Old Fashioned, or Knob Mint Julep. I’d likely be directed to enjoy a refreshing Jack & Coke instead. I challenge you to prove me wrong on both charges.