It's none of your business why. Just pay me.

Working the door at the Basilisk's Burrow is usually not a bad night. Your Door Diva does her best to keep her cool in moments or trouble, yet there are some who just work on my damn nerves. The next few posts are dedicated to the whiners, the bitchers, the pissers and moaners. Be warned: If you make a fuss at my door: I WILL TALK ABOUT YOU.


Last night was going to be a busy one. A big music festival was in town, and there was a crowd of people lining the hallways. Two girls walk up:


Girl: "There's a cover tonight?"
Me: "Ugh. We do this every week. Every week I'm sitting behind this table, and every week there's a cover. Yes, there's a cover. It's ten dollars."
Girl: "OMG TEN DOLLARS!?"
Me: "Yes. Ten dollars."
Girl: "You're serious. Ten dollars."
Me: *siiiiiigh*
Girl: "Like you're serious right now. It's Ten fucking dollars?"
Me: "Hey, watch your fucking language! Yes, it's ten damn dollars. Diez dólares. Dix Dollars.десять долларов."
Girl: "Well, Why is it ten dollars tonight? It's usually five dollars."
Me: "Because we're the 'Big-ass Uniquely Krafty Union of EDM' after party."
Girl: "Well, that's ridiculous."
Me: "Mmm-hmmm..."
Girl: "I'm not paying that."
Me: "Okay."
Girl: ".....  ......  ......"
Me: "*blink blink*
Girl: "You know it's going to be just like every other Treble Worship on Sunday."
Me: "According to the man who pays my bills, it's NOT."
Girl: "...Fair enough."
Me: *holds out hand* $10."
The Girl got her friend to pay...Whatever.