Written 29 March, 2007
The Chaperone
II. The Concert
Kody again.
I should chaperone more often.
Why?
Not because it’s any great joy.
No, it’s a pain in the ...
I can’t say it, because Chey’s friend Aldo has instituted a $25L cursing fee. Anyone who uses profanity has to pay a quarter at the Dragon, where I’m writing this as I wait for my shift to start.
To whom?
Good question. I don’t think that’s been determined.
I do know I need a tip jar. Aldo tipped me yesterday and the money went to Chey. When he told me, I asked him the amount and he said 4.3 trillion Lindens.
And not a word about it from Cheyenne.
But I’m off topic. That happens when I don’t take my Ritalin.
And I must confess, I’m putting just the weensiest bit of vodka in the orange juice.
There are bennies when you work in a bar.
Soooo, I get all dressed up—blonde hair and all—and go with Milky and Roy to their concert. It was a torch singer with a bass player and the mic was so overblown I immediately turned off the sound, but the ambiance was so nice that I was soon enjoying myself.
And now to complete the thought which I started, and from which I seem to have become separated, I was happy to chaperone because there was a poseball.
Did I say poseball? I mean ‘Sploder. I must have poseballs on the brain.
It was a nasty ‘Sploder. It kicked me off time and again, usually just before it popped. Even when I hung in front of it and paid it five seconds before it detonated, I got kicked out a lot.
I blame lag.
Still, I won more than $1200 lindens, for no more than $150 paid.
So even though I bought three pairs of expensive shoes, I ended the evening with more money than I started with.
Woo hoo!
Chaperoning usually isn’t all that hard. You get to put on nice clothes and listen to okay music and let guys buy you drinks and eat all the hors d’ouvres.
But I earned my pay last night.
Not that I WAS paid.
Hmm. Dakota’s chaperoning service. $150L/hour. $200/hour hazard surcharge if you use dangerous poseballs that might go off near me.
So anyway, things started out just fine. They were slow dancing and chatting and seemed to be having a good time.
Then Roy crashed, and after he came back he was on one end of the room and Milky was on the other.
“I don’t know what happened,” she said
“She was dancing by herself,” he said. “I didn’t know what to do. Will you dance with me?”
She was probably still in the same dance pose he had fallen off of, but I didn’t think of that until later. I said, “No, I won’t dance with you. Be the man and go ask her to dance.” And he did.
They both thanked me.
-----
The concert was really long—two hours—and it started late, like 7 pm Linden time. Milky is on UK time, and she stayed until four am her time, which tells me the date was a success, since she had to get up two hours later. I expect her ass is dragging today. But I expect there’s a smile on her face, too.
Darn it! I said a bad word. Now I have to dig into my tip money for $25L! A girl could end up in the hole this way!
The Chaperone
II. The Concert
Kody again.
I should chaperone more often.
Why?
Not because it’s any great joy.
No, it’s a pain in the ...
I can’t say it, because Chey’s friend Aldo has instituted a $25L cursing fee. Anyone who uses profanity has to pay a quarter at the Dragon, where I’m writing this as I wait for my shift to start.
To whom?
Good question. I don’t think that’s been determined.
I do know I need a tip jar. Aldo tipped me yesterday and the money went to Chey. When he told me, I asked him the amount and he said 4.3 trillion Lindens.
And not a word about it from Cheyenne.
But I’m off topic. That happens when I don’t take my Ritalin.
And I must confess, I’m putting just the weensiest bit of vodka in the orange juice.
There are bennies when you work in a bar.
Soooo, I get all dressed up—blonde hair and all—and go with Milky and Roy to their concert. It was a torch singer with a bass player and the mic was so overblown I immediately turned off the sound, but the ambiance was so nice that I was soon enjoying myself.
And now to complete the thought which I started, and from which I seem to have become separated, I was happy to chaperone because there was a poseball.
Did I say poseball? I mean ‘Sploder. I must have poseballs on the brain.
It was a nasty ‘Sploder. It kicked me off time and again, usually just before it popped. Even when I hung in front of it and paid it five seconds before it detonated, I got kicked out a lot.
I blame lag.
Still, I won more than $1200 lindens, for no more than $150 paid.
So even though I bought three pairs of expensive shoes, I ended the evening with more money than I started with.
Woo hoo!
Chaperoning usually isn’t all that hard. You get to put on nice clothes and listen to okay music and let guys buy you drinks and eat all the hors d’ouvres.
But I earned my pay last night.
Not that I WAS paid.
Hmm. Dakota’s chaperoning service. $150L/hour. $200/hour hazard surcharge if you use dangerous poseballs that might go off near me.
So anyway, things started out just fine. They were slow dancing and chatting and seemed to be having a good time.
Then Roy crashed, and after he came back he was on one end of the room and Milky was on the other.
“I don’t know what happened,” she said
“She was dancing by herself,” he said. “I didn’t know what to do. Will you dance with me?”
She was probably still in the same dance pose he had fallen off of, but I didn’t think of that until later. I said, “No, I won’t dance with you. Be the man and go ask her to dance.” And he did.
They both thanked me.
-----
The concert was really long—two hours—and it started late, like 7 pm Linden time. Milky is on UK time, and she stayed until four am her time, which tells me the date was a success, since she had to get up two hours later. I expect her ass is dragging today. But I expect there’s a smile on her face, too.
Darn it! I said a bad word. Now I have to dig into my tip money for $25L! A girl could end up in the hole this way!
No comments:
Post a Comment