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Sinclair the ROB Part 2

sinclair

Strip Club Nation

I was at a strip club a while back and consuming too much of my beverage of choice, Sincweiser, as usual. Naturally, I had to go to the washroom frequently at this upscale club to drain the tank. There was a bathroom troll working the washroom--just another unnecessary and useless worker to give this club the appearance that is was uppity. When I went to wash my hands, the 20-something kid did not even squirt soap in my hand or turn on the faucet for me. I had to touch the nasty soap dispenser and the filthy faucet knob. The knucklehead expected a tip for only handing me a paltry paper towel? I tossed a buck in the basket based on principal, not service.

About an hour later, I am back in the washroom and the same scenario plays out. The troll didn't even look up from his smartphone when he handed me the paper towel. No friendly greeting or offer of cologne. Plus, I had to touch that filthy faucet knob to turn the water off, probably recontaminating my hands after just washing them. I tossed a buck in the basket because I am at this upscale club to tip for services like a gentleman, right?

About another hour passes, and I am again taking a piss. While I am finishing up at the urinal, I notice out of the side of my eye that the bathroom troll suddenly exits the washroom. While I am washing my hands, Steve Miller Band pops into my head:

They got the money, hey, you know they got away
They headed down south and they're still running today
Singin' go on take the money and run
Go on, take the money and run
Hoo-hoo-hoo, go on, take the money and run
Oh lord, go on, take the money and run

My hand whips into that tip basket like one of those sticky hands that are frequently sold inside of the plastic eggs at grocery stores, and I pocket all of the money. The funny thing about these upscale strip clubs is that they are loaded with cameras; the only exception is the one place they can't put them: the washroom. As I am exiting, I see the bathroom troll in the hallway talking to one of the dancers, probably thinking he can bang her because he work there. I just casually walk out the door.

I netted thirty-two dollars, one five and the rest singles. I probably should have gotten a nice fourth meal at Taco Bell that night, but left the money in a compartment in my vehicle and forgot about it.

Fast forward to the present day. The Christmas decorations are out. The Protestants are begging in front of every big box store with their bells and red kettles. The Tannenbaum fills the house with an amazing balsam odor. The Christmas cards have been mailed. Sinclair Claus is checking his list to make sure everyone has something to open in ten days. Well, I had to go to Kmart to get a particular item for a family member. At the checkout they ask you if you want to make a donation to St. Jude's Children's Research Hospital in Memphis. I thought for about three seconds. I asked the girl checking me out if she could hold on a minute while I ran out to my vehicle. I came back with the money I had robbed from the strip club this past summer and more than doubled it with my own.

Merry Christmas to all and to all ROB's don't fuck with me!