Take one for the Team

I'm out with a girlfriend, Kia. This evening is simply a prelude to tomorrow night's planned clubbing venture. We meet friends at a hipster bar down in the Tenderloin. Definitely one of the sketchier neighborhoods of the city that we aren't as keen on gracing with our presence. Walking in, we are well aware we are over dressed. The girl behind is rolls her eyes and comments loud enough for us to hear, "where do they think they're going?" Kia turns to me and replies, "it's better to be overdressed than underdressed, don't you think?" I smile at her remark and as she called it, all eyes are on us. We stand out like a sore thumb in our knee high boots and stilettos. (We're looking good. Baby prostitute good!) We meet up with our friends who wouldn't expect anything less from our attire and laugh about past mishaps and ventures.

After a cocktail (or two--okay 4 really), we're on a mission to go dancing. We make it to a bar on Polk Street knowing the dance floor is calling our name. There's a line out the door about 20 people long. Kia and I start out in line only to be followed by a group of four young men (aka fresh meat). They small talk with us and ask us what college we go to. I tell them we just graduated and walk away towards the front of the line, leaving Kia with the "be right back" look. There are two bouncers at the door, one who looks more in charge than the other. I make eye contact with him and acknowledge the 3 girls who walk up behind me. "Hey", I say to him. "Our friend John bartends here". He looks at me and smirks. "No one named John works here". "That's what he said his name was, " I laugh and look over to Kia. She gives me the what gives look. "How many?" he asks. "5 girls," I respond as I point to Kevin and give her the signal to come over. She looks back at the boys behind us and as she turns to walk away, "We're really 30 and it looks like we've still got it". Kevin and I make our way in, only to pause to thank Gabriel our newest bouncer friend. "Looks like it's seniors night tonight", she laughs.

Let it be known, that I am not to thank for my ways. Trouble is called Trouble for a reason. She taught me confidence and the power of persuasion over many countless nights, the first being one of our first annual Vegas trips. While we always "know" the bartender or are always "on the guest list", Trouble made sure we always add a closer. The closer is designated girl in the group who gets assigned to "take one for the team". She knows its her job to stand in line behind Trouble when we're walking up to the bouncer. She knows not to talk and most likely shouldn't due to her recent consumption of liquid confidence. She's the one who is designated to wear the clear heals or the drape neck dress ever so strategically placed to keep from exposing the goods. "Take one for the team" was not only our nightly outing requirement, but on the "big nights out", you bet there was a pinch hitter on board. What defines a big night out you ask? A night signifying a recent breakup for one of its members. Usually the pinch hitter is the most recent single who despite the girl designated to "take one for the team" is the one who is actually expected to take one for the team. Usually the sluttiest girl in the group is the biggest prude. It is important to have balance among your team players!

Mind you, rule #1 in Vegas for Trouble and I, is No Sex in Vegas (especially after the first incident). #2 What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Rule # 3 Make sure not everyone in your group adheres to rule number 1. Variation is good.

The pinch hitter is expected to win the game. It is her job at any costs to make the night a memorable one. And what could be more memorable than being escorted to the VIP tables, being offered to take shots in exchange for "cannon balling" into the pool, ending up in John Meyer's suite and finding out he kinda has a thing for his fat boy guard, hanging out back stage, dancing in the DJ's booth, hanging out with the Pacers, the Chargers, the Rangers, the Barcelona Football Team, the WWF wresting team or finding shelter with the Canadian Hockey team?