This is written for the Studio30 Plus prompt this week– "Las Vegas.”
*I have been a cocktail server and I have been to Vegas once, but I have never been a cocktail server in Vegas.
Just thought I would throw that out there.
Let’s get the cards on the table.
First of all, I am not a prostitute.
If anything, I am a goodwill ambassador—a cheerleader for those of you who roll the dice and play the odds. My job is to bring you drinks. It is not to be your therapist when money’s pissed away, and I sure as hell don’t work this hard for IOUs and winks.
Time is money.
While the uniform is not my choice, I actually quite like it. There are women who sometimes look at me with disgust and ask how any self-respecting person could work in Vegas, serving (gasp) liquor nonetheless. To that I say, “I am working in Vegas, serving drinks and making money. You are in Vegas, drinking those drinks and spending money."
If you’re not, your husband/boyfriend is. Trust me.
I would rather be me.
Now a couple tips.
Drinks while you’re gambling are meant to keep you playing. They’re just little perks to give you something to celebrate with when you’re winning and they’re supposed to make you a little happier while you’re losing. That’s all. It’s not supposed to be a stressful ordeal, so don’t think too hard about it.
As a side note, do not ask me if I have a drink menu or if we have a specific wine you drank once back in 1996. You’re at a slot machine, not a fine dining Parisian bistro. Know what you want and appreciate the fact that it’s free.
Remember, time is money.
Speaking of that, a minimum dollar a drink tip is standard. If you “don’t have change,” “your girlfriend will be back with the tip” or “you just lost all your money”— in other words, you’re planning on stiffing me — don’t beat around the bush. Every time I bring a drink I’m trying to make money. If you’re not going to give me a tip, I’m not going to stand there and waste more time.
On the flip side, if you have my tip waiting for me when I bring your drink, you will get special treatment. Not only do I know that you’re expecting me to return and are ready to compensate me for my efforts, but it also lets you keep playing without stopping to dig for money. This shows me you are at least mildly knowledgeable of the environment and less likely waste my time.
Finally, I have no “house” secrets that will bring you untold riches with a roll of the dice or a pull of a lever.
What I do have is a uniform that smells like spilled drinks, a head that often hurts from the constant lights and the noise and a mortgage to pay of my own. I’m not a dealer, a psychic or a concierge.
If anything, I am a goodwill ambassador—a cheerleader for those of you who roll the dice and play the odds.
My job is to bring you drinks.
Time is money.
Well, that was fun.
Now let’s pretend you’re in Las Vegas and not at work reading blogs when you should be doing “ASAP" things for other important people who have no idea how to do them on their own.
What would you order for your first free drink?