A note from the author: I am currently taking 2 writing classes-- my first instructor is a strict "you must write for 3 hours every single morning!" while the other is more experimental in her approach "don't be lazy, do something original and take risks!"
So, I decided to combine those commandments and wrote this short story over the course of about 3 hours...start straight to finish, capturing the story as it formed in my thoughts. There were no revisions... I just got swept up in the rollercoaster ride.
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I've slept on it...my mind is still made up. I pull the business card off my refrigerator, and make the call. Stan is delighted; he'll see me at noon.
Now the conundrum; Stan and I have never actually met...the only reason he agreed to schedule the interview is because I knew his phone number and I could provide the codeword from the card that had been given me.
It was some time ago...but a girl does not forget her first $100 tip, not when the standard fare is cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes. Of course, I should mention that my standard uniform was of the wholesome cheerleader variety.
Which is to say, we weren't dressed like sluts...rather, more like the sweater girls in the 1950s. Okay, certainly helped that I'm petite but still blessed with spectacular, perky breasts that mesmerizingly bounce and jiggle as I walk.
Anyway, back to my customer...he was certainly not in any hurry, which was fine given the fact we were in between lunch and dinner services. After learning all about my background, he then confessed everything--he was a talent agent of sorts...always on the lookout for girls that had that something extra.
No, he wasn't in the porn industry. No, he wasn't looking for escorts. This was totally legit and an offer I should seriously consider.
He then confided that every month, his employer throws an invitation-only weeklong party for a group of exclusive clientele that come to town to play high-stakes poker and make business deals.
My job would be to help run the games and to just be like eye-candy. I would make money hand over fist and thoroughly enjoy the weekend. He also vouched for all of the gentlemen, there was a strict vetting system in place. I would be treated like a princess.
My first party would be probationary, but if all went well, I could be offered a fulltime place on the roster. And that would mean I'd be able to look forward to making serious bank every month.
I listened attentively, asked a couple questions so he knew I wasn't just blowing him off, then thanked him for the kind offer. It was then that he handed me the card, wrapped in the $100 dollar bill.
Back to the matter at hand, I have one shot...at winning over Stan and, potentially, paying off my student loans. I remember the scout's exact words ("exclusive clientele") which to my mind connotes 'extremely wealthy' but are we talking private planes and yachts?
I consider my options...I could get all dolled up, I do have a certain very revealing tiny, black dress. But this doesn't strike me as a casting call exactly...plus, the talent spotter seemed to really zero in on the fact that I had grown up on a farm in Iowa.
That's my answer...I put on a short sundress then take a taxi to his office. I see it in his eyes when he welcomes me inside... yeah, I've made the right decision.
Stan is sophisticated, just like all of his friends. I'm a young, adorable farmer's daughter...and you don't get many of those around here. He offers me the job on the spot but makes it clear that I'll need to free up my next month completely.
Then he clarifies that the line-up for this week's game has already been announced, plus I'll need training and that takes time.
We agree that I should give my current job my 2-weeks' notice then move into his mansion so I can begin learning how to deal blackjack and Texas Hold 'em.
Stan's mansion is more like a private resort. There are swimming pools, gardens, a small golf course (par-3s), a sporting clays range, an actual amphitheater, and a couple of yurts scattered around the property.
There are six of us new girls...and six veterans to help show us the ropes. Turns out dealing blackjack is pretty easy... players get dealt 2 up cards, and I deal myself 1 up and 1 down. Then we go around the horn so players can decide what they want to do...when it's my turn, I flip up my hidden card and go from there.
Me: "What if I get nervous? I might freeze and not know what to do."
Veteran: "Don't worry about that...the guys love when that happens...in fact, they will be more than helpful."
Texas Hold 'em is even easier...I just need to remember to burn cards before my reveals. The guys won't need me to declare a winner, they'll already know.
At night, we throw pajama parties and we drink margaritas... and the veteran's share their personal accounts:
Veteran: "The guys will be tipping you with poker chips, here's what you really need to know: orange = $50, black = $100, pink = $250, purple = $500."
Newbie: "For just dealing cards?"
Veteran: "Yeah, but look. Sometimes, he'll be holding out 2 different hands with chips in both. If that happens, you lean in so he can whisper in your ear. If you want to accept his deal, then grab all of the chips being offered, otherwise just take your tip and move on. But always with a smile."
Newbie: "What kinds of things?"
Veteran: "Oh, they get creative..."
The next morning, we learn how to make the perfect martini: ice cubes in the shaker, add the dry vermouth / 3 olives, remove the pimento and fully hand-stuff with chunks of blue cheese / pull glass from the freezer then pour in more dry vermouth / strain all liquid from the shaker then pour in 4 ounces of vodka or gin / spear the olives on a sword, swirl the vermouth in the glass then dump out / add the sword to the glass / if vodka, then shake away but if gin, just stir / strain the magical elixir into the glass & serve.
I learn so much the first week it makes my head spin. But it's the second week, after 3 of the new girls have failed out, that those of us who have survived are fully briefed.
If any particular gentleman took a liking to me, he could hand over a pink notebook. If that happened then the front pages would be filled in with his "list of desirables" while the back page would be his opening bid. I could then accept the conditions as written or modify them however I liked, to include the price. Everything is negotiable.
Veteran-1: "There's one guy...from Texas... he'll be wearing a bolo tie. You'll have to strip naked then hide in the woods at the far end of the property. It's literally a high-stakes game of hide & seek. Because once he finds you...and he will...then he will throw you over his back to carry you into one of those tents. At that point, though, he wants you to fight...for a while at least, then he wants you to submit.
