So, as some of you may know, I help out with the promotions and running of Black Widows nightclub in Melbourne.
Last weekend, I was door bitching for the night, missing out on all the fun… or so I thought.
In steps two young gentlemen wearing blue jeans and plaid shirts. Oh dear, methinks, here we go again.
The first one steps up to the plate “Hey, is there a cover charge?”
“Yes,” I reply, “It’s $10 this evening, or $8 with a flyer.”
They step back and confer for a bit. The second one steps up “What kind of club is it?”
“It’s a gothic club, gentlemen.”
“Oh… Are there chicks in there?”
“Yes.”
“Are they hot?”
I raise an eyebrow, already knowing where this is going, and comtemplating whether or not to tell them about the ‘traps’. I decide not to and press on with “Some of them, certainly. It’s like any other nightclub in that respect.”
“Yeah, yeah. Are they up for it?”
“I think you’ll find they certainly are,” I respond, a hint of a smile playing at my lips “but you may find that you’re not quite into what they are into…”
They look at each other before the first asks “What do you mean?”
I simply make a spanking gesture.
“Oh, they’re into spanking?”
“The nice ones are. If that’s a problem, you probably don’t want to know what the others are into.”
They step back again, and talk to each other for a moment, taking side long glances at me.
“You know what, we’ll probably be back a bit later.”
Sometimes, there’s fun to be had in the most boring of places.