#legit blacked put every time i stood up to greet a customer

[murray--river]

Knocked over a spray bottle at work today and it leaked all over the floor.

Thought nothing besides a small "oh shit" and went to cleaning it up.

3 hours later, I've clocked off and found out I've been straight-up inhaling peroxide this whole time

[neoct18]

ace [part 1]

“I’ve seen you around before.”

You looked up at the source of the voice. A tall boy with honey brown hair and extremely peculiar features was staring at your things that were currently all over the pavement.

You scattered to pick them up quickly, choosing not to reply to the stranger. Your day wasn’t going that well.

But then again, what’s new.

“You always go up that road around 7 in the afternoon, right?” His tone was conversational, and if you were completely honest he did not look like he could murder you, which was a change for once.

You sat back at your seat at the bus station and decided to give him a short answer.

“Right.”

He was wearing expensive clothes, you could tell. They were still street wear style, but you could distinguish a brand or two among the layering he had.

He was skinny, your stranger.

And amused, apparently.

“I’m harmless, don’t worry. I live around here too. I’m Minghao.”

That sparked your interest. Chinese? But you couldn’t fight back your sharp tongue.

“Says every creep ever.”

Minghao laughed, as if the two of you were friends. He seemed comfortable around you already. Wish you could say the same.

“I know your boyfriend,” he tried to explain himself after his little fit. “He fights pretty good.”

Again, you couldn’t help but look at him. Why on earth did he approach you now? What did he want?

“Have you fought him?” you asked, curious.

His lips displayed a small smirk now, as he finally took his eyes off you, gaze now scanning the busy morning road.

“I’m not into that sort of thing. I’m skinny as fuck, I’d get my ass handed to me.”

You couldn’t help but agree with that. A small smile formed on your lips.

“Ah, she smiles,” he commented, but when you looked at him again, he wasn’t even looking at your direction.

You decided to end this little conversation. Your bus would arrive soon anyway.

“Well, Minghao, I’m not sure why you talked to me, but it was... nice meeting you,” you stood up and extended your hand. “I assume you already know my name.”

He took it, after what seemed like a good look at your face.

“Among other things,” he gently shook your hand. His hand was warm.

You strangely didn’t feel weirded out. He was Mingyu’s friend after all. Maybe he talked about you to him, or something.

“Right, well... see you around, I guess.”

Just in time, your bus came. With a last glance you got in, swiping your card, and sitting down.

You couldn’t help but look at him through the window.

He was looking right at you, like he’d followed every move of yours. A shiver ran down your spine.

What was all this? It felt... off. Not in a bad way, but just— off.

He was off putting. Intense in a totally calm way.

You shook your head as the bus moved and he disappeared from view.

Minghao stared behind the moving bus, his hand taking a card out of his pants pocket.

An ace.

He thought what gambling chances there were that would ensure you becoming his. He’d played for a few fucks, but this would be different.

Jun would be quite interested to hear about you.

When you got off the bus at 7:07 pm, completely drained and a bit annoyed from God knows what, Minghao was there to greet you once again.

You thought, what the hell was wrong with this guy? Did he not take hints?

Nevertheless, you couldn’t ignore him. Not when he looked like he was there for the sole purpose of seeing you.

“You’re late today,” he commented, hands in his jackets pockets, hair falling in his eyes.

You put your work smile on, despite how tired you were of it. 

It still felt extremely weird to hear a stranger say something like that. You couldn’t say it still didn’t creep you out a bit.

Whatever.

You just wanted to go home, where you knew Mingyu was getting ready to head off to the gym.

“You’re here again,” you replied with a saccharine voice.

You started walking towards the direction of your house, not really caring if this person was following behind you.

Your shoes were killing you, and your lunch had been cut short due to a flood of customers.

“Is that okay?”

Guess he was really going to follow you.

“I don’t really care,” you said absentmindedly. You were hungry.

“You must be hungry.” It was like he read your mind.

You stopped to look at him for a second, and he stopped walking too. His eyes seemed clear in the setting sun. Yet something about him was closed off.

That’s what made you self conscious.

“Why?”

“It’s dinner time,” he said simply.

That made you feel stupid for being so suspicious. He was right, anyway.

“I’d invite you, but...” What even?

In reality, you hadn’t even checked in with your boyfriend to see if what this Minghao character had said was true and if they truly did know each other, but you guessed if he was a psychopath, he did a damn good job of playing normal.

Still, you had your guard up, just in case.

“You don’t want me to come to your house,” you heard him say in an amused tone.

“Don’t worry, I just have something to discuss with Mingyu.”

Again, you glanced at him. He had caught up with you, walking next to you but keeping a good amount of distance.

“You talked to him?”

He hummed. Your empty neighborhood street became more familiar as you got closer to your house. The street lamps gave you that familiar feeling you always get from your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend who you’d most likely find sporting a bruise or two on his handsome face.

“You’re weird,” you couldn’t help but blurt out.

He didn’t seem to be fazed by that. You saw a smile out of the corner of your eye.

“In what way?” he prompted.

You didn’t have to think about it for long.

“I’mㅡ I don’t... know. You just are. I feel like you know me.”

“I do know you.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you cursed it. What the fuck. This was getting totally out of control.

“No, you don’t.” Unconsciously, you started walking faster.

Then you didn’t sense him close to you anymore. You looked over your shoulder. He’d stopped walking.

He nodded with his chin, hands still ㅡalways, in his pockets.

“Go on. I make you uncomfortable,” is what he said, and you will never know why but you felt something so strange inside of you move orㅡor jump, you’d wonder about it for weeks to come.

You didn’t question it at that moment however, and did as you were told. You reached your house, got in, took your shoes off, got rid of any clothing that was in the way of you getting comfortable, and met your boyfriend in the bathroom, where he was shaving.

Mingyu was barely home, because of his job. Travelling for championships and training with retired champions certainly took up a big chunk of his time. But he made it work. Always.

You two didn’t talk a lot when you came home. That day, he just grabbed your hand and dragged you into him, making you circle your hands around his waist and peak his face from over his shoulder.

“You’re leaving, right?” You kept your voice low as if someone was sleeping.

He dragged the razor against his jaw. “I’ll be back in two hours.”

And then Minghao popped in your head, destroying your reality as you knew it.

“There was a guy at the bus station this morning. And now. Minghao? He said he knew you. He...” you wanted to say followed but he wasn’t really following you.

“He walked me half the way. He’s probably outside right now. Did you two talk? Do you know him?”

Mingyu nodded, not being able to move his head a lot, and finished up shaving. You met his eyes when he did, and he had an unreadable expression.

You didn’t question it. You were just glad Minghao was legit. Though a part of you wished he wasn’t.

You felt as though he came to get something. You didn’t want to know what that was.

You moved away as your boyfriend dried his face and followed him to the bedroom where his stuff was.

“He was a friend during junior high, but he left second year of high school,” he explained to you, sensing your anxiousness.

You were a bit surprised to hear that. You didn’t think it went that far back.

“So that’s like... almost five years since you’ve seen him?”

Mingyu shook his head and then took hold of your face, kissing the top of your head, while he put his bag over his shoulder.

His black hair was sticking out in every direction, and he looked like he just woke up. You kind of felt bad for him, in a way. He enjoyed what he did, but it did take a toll on him.

“I’ve seen him around a few times,” he looked down at you, dark eyes soft. “I’ll go talk to him, okay? Did he pull anything?”

“No, no...” you shook your head. “He was really friendly actually. I was the asshole.”

Mingyu smiled. “You didn’t know who he was, babe.”

“Still.” You two reached the front door. He put on his shoes, and opened it.

You weren’t quick to look outside, somehow knowing Minghao would be standing just a few feet away.

“Hey, dude...” Mingyu’s voice was loud but unsure and that rang through you. His hand left yours as he went outside to greet his sort of? friend.

“See?” You looked up. Minghao had ignored Mingyu, and was instead staring at you with a smirk. “I know your boyfriend.”

“You creeped the fuck out of her.”

You didn’t like how he said ‘your boyfriend.’ It seemed condescending; like he was making fun of this fact. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, but Mingyu spoke again before you could say anything. At you, this time.

“Go inside and get something to eat. It’s okay,” he smiled, but you weren’t reassured.

Something seemed off, once again. This whole day was so strange, all because of this guy with the pointed features.

You almost wanted to say no and stay, just to see if they were really actually close, but that something that has been bugging you since morning made you nod and turn around without a second glance at him.

That night you dreamt about a high school field trip, and a faceless boy.

[ecotone99]

[NF][NSFW] The Customer Is Not Always Right

The Customer Is NOT Always Right

It was a Friday at the strip club just after the free lunch buffet rush. Some of the night girls usually come in early to work the happy hour. We run a pretty busy crowd all shift on Fridays; one main stage and three sides. I tell the night girls if they come in early, expect me to put them in stage rotation or get the hell out. We put on a goddamn show during my shifts.

So I am walking around the club, doing manager stuff and walking by the main stage. I notice a five-top with two young ladies and three guys, one maybe late fifties, sitting right at main stage. They are laughing and having fun. I think about an hour goes by and I walk past that group again. This time, they were pretty boisterous. I made a mental note to check them in a half hour. Before I walked much further, something caught my eye from under their table. It was shiny or reflected the bar lights. Our table stands are all painted black so maybe it was a sequined purse?

I casually walked over to the table smiling and greeted them and asked them how they were doing. They responded pretty much how a table full of happy drunk people would respond. I had bent down to look under the table at what had caught my eye as they were talking. After I realized what it was, I reached in and grabbed it – a half-empty handle of Tito’s Handmade Vodka. I’m trying to figure out how they walked this big-ass jug in without getting noticed. (Side note: I worked with a white-trash stripper at another bar that almost succeeded in smuggling two longneck beers out of the bar inside her pair of skin-tight jeans.)

I stood up and asked the table, “Whose is this?” The older guy, acting like a drunken magician slurs, “Tuh-dah, bish! Mine.” He stumble-lunges at his jug o’ vodka and I Heisman Trophy his ass – tucked the jug tight in the crook of one arm while giving him a gentle (for me) stiff arm with the other. I questioned him as to what possessed him to bring this massive bottle into our establishment. He responded that we were out of Tito’s the last time he came in to our club.

About this time, their waitress came over. I asked her if they have a tab open and she nodded in reply. “Close ‘em out,” I told her and she scampered off. I turned back to the table and insisted that they finish their drinks; they were leaving. The older gentleman started to get loud and belligerent so I started walking towards the main lobby. No need to ruin everyone else’s good time. I caught the eye of their waitress who, by this time, was closing their tab at the waitress station at the main bar. I made hand gestures for her to bring the tab out to the front. She nodded and I continued on with the drunken ensemble in tow.

In the lobby, one of the younger gentlemen started to apologize; the old guy was their boss. He claimed they were celebrating and did not mean to cause any problems. Here comes Mr. Idiot and he starts slobbering and spitting while he is talking. I did not even hear a word, I just put my finger up to my lips for him to be silent and I stated, “You got caught with your pants down and now you’re leaving.” His whole head started to glow like an incandescent tomato. He sputtered profusely and I could see that I had upset him something considerable. I tucked that little nugget of information away for later.

The waitress came out with the old man’s card and the tab and handed them to me. The jug was still in the crook of my left arm as I nodded to the guy to step up to the lobby counter. I handed him the tab but kept his card (slipped it into my shirt pocket). I grabbed my pen and extended it to him so he could sign the tab. His tomato face had paled remarkably and the look on it had changed as well. He made no attempt to grab the pen. He just started stumbling for the exit doors. “I ain’ signin’ sshhit! Ima cancel mah card,” he declared slowly, as if his tongue was wading through a peanut butter marsh.

I grabbed the tab and quickly followed him out the exit doors with the whole entourage and now quite a few of the regulars to boot. I figured they followed for equal parts help and also entertainment value. I easily overtook this real life Weeble Wobble and I again handed him the tab to sign repeating, “You got caught with your pants down. Now sign the tab and you can go.” Oh boy did his face get hot!! It was all blistery red like he had just chewed up a Carolina Ghost Pepper. I was standing about three feet away but I swear I could feel the heat coming off his head. I thought it was going to pop when he yelled, “I DIN NAH HAVE MAH PANTZ DOWN!!”

It is eerie how my boss, the area director, has the ability to show up when things are getting off kilter. I see him standing quietly at the edge of the crowd sipping on a can of Diet Pepsi, looking at me as I responded to the guy, “It’s nothing more than a figure of speech. Now simmer down and sign the tab.”

He feebly attempted to push past me as he reiterated that he was not going to sign the tab and would indeed cancel his card. This whole event, I have been fairly stoical. I have been through this situation countless times but now my fuse has burned short. Still holding the tab in my hand, I stopped him, looked him dead in the eye and advised, “You’re not going anywhere until you sign this tab, old man. Here’s why.” I held up the illicit jug of Tito’s.

“You sign the fuckin’ tab right now, goddammit, or I swear to Christ I’ll call the cops and have them throw you in jail. It’s illegal to walk into a bar in Texas with your own alcohol. That’s one. You’re practically shitfaced. That’s two. I’ll have a description of your car with license plate number for the cops if you bail. That’s three.” My eyes got all squinty as I leaned towards him. “Sign. The fucking. Tab.” He stood there, using every last drop of his ball juice to stare back at me in defiance. Finally, he caved.

He grabbed the pen and tab. He turned one of his friends around to use their back to sign. His eyes shot daggers as he shoved the tab at me and started to lurch past. I looked down at the tab to make sure he did sign and not pull a stunt like just a scribble. I would haul him back inside and reprint that tab until my shift ended or we ran out of thermal paper if I was not convinced it looked legit. Thumbs up on the signature. I then looked at the tip line.

“Zero? My waitress had nothing to do with you being an asshole drunk.” He did not even acknowledge my comment. He wanted his jug of vodka back and I shook my head. “Mine,” I stated through clenched teeth. He mumbled something unintelligible and then stumbled towards a crappy yellow station wagon parked across the lot. His cast of misfits had largely remained quiet this whole time but they quickly gathered together and pooled their cash. The one young gentleman handed the pile to the waitress and it looked like some decent cabbage. He walked past me with the rest in tow and said, “I’m sorry. That’s our boss. He does this quite a bit.” I told him he needed a new boss as I handed over the credit card.

They followed their boss out to the banana car where the boss was leaning against the passenger side door. I was not moving until I saw that car off the lot and made sure the village idiot was not attempting to drive. The group that was still assembled outside behind me watched as the station wagon backed out of the space and came slowly around towards the exit.

The old guy was furiously working the crank to roll the window down. Probably to throw one last sarcastic remark at me before they wandered off. I spun the top off the jug of Tito’s vodka in the time it took him to roll his window halfway down. I did not say a word. I just looked at him and started slow pouring his vodka all over the ground.

He watched in horror and disbelief until every drop had spilled onto the pavement. I thought I saw his bottom lip quiver a little as he silently rolled up his window and waved the driver to go. I witnessed utter defeat in an opponent that day and it was all that I thought it could be.

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