For some reason it appears that in Louisville it's ok to wear underwear in a bar and collect a paycheck. Probably a larger one than I get, btw. But I'm guessing that there aren't really great benefits, and the shoes hurt one hell of a lot more. And there's probably also one hell of a short shelf life for the girls who go this route. With their pretty little bottoms on display, and dead eyes...
When not slinging drinks and expensive colored fruity shots in silly containers, they get to dance. Dance for us all! With their pretty little bottoms on display, and dead eyes.
And the hungry boys watch.
And the scary boys think things I don't want to know about.
Did they plan to get these jobs when they were little? Was this all part of fulfilling some kind of dream?
Is my sadness and angst about the whole thing inappropriate? Do the dead eyes lie?
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2 comments:
i once watched a swine of a man
devour a rare, porterhouse steak
just underneath one of these chippies
dancing in her skivvies.
the dead eyes...
great capture.
It left quite an impression on both of us. Me=sad. Kboy = pissed off.
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