Caught In Slips - Pt 10
By Christie Myr

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I’d like to thank Emily 63 from Victoria in Australia for providing me with information about various places and institutions mentioned. I didn’t have anyone to proof read this chapter, so I apologise for any grammatical mistakes in it.
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Craig phoned my sister explaining he’d be late getting home for tea, so Sue and I ate ours leaving Craig’s in the microwave for him to eat later. During the meal I reminded her about my need to start replenishing my dwindling financial reserves, and again asked her why she wouldn’t ask her old boss about if they needed a casual barmaid. She told me I wouldn’t ever be able to pass the interview, while again playfully squeezing one of my breasts to emphasise her point.

She saw the look on my face and sighing loudly, told me that “IF” and strongly emphasised the word. If I proved to her old boss I could draw a beer or mix a drink to his demanding requirements, all of the women serving behind the bars there either did so completely topless, or wearing a see through top made of a gossamer type material like the old curtains in my bedroom.

She went into her bedroom and came back holding an almost non-existent see through top to her chest, telling me “this” was one of her old tops she wore for the job, before causally taking off her top and bra and putting the gossamer top on. If the top was a uniform and was meant to partly disguise her breasts, it was a complete waste of time. They were graphically displayed.

She laughed seeing my look of incredulity about what she wore for her old barmaid’s job and I had to admit, I didn’t feel so confident about my idea for getting the job I’d been thinking of either. Still money was money and Sue telling me what she used to earn there when she working part time, was just too good to pass up without a try. So, nothing ventured………

I said I’d be back in a few minutes and went to my room closing the door behind me. When I opened it again and walked back out, I was wearing the red and black corset and matching panty that my cricket team had presented to me. I’d only lightly tied it up the back of the corset and on walking over to her and slowly pirouetting to display myself, asked her if I wore something like this instead of being topless, did she think the owner (and patrons) might have a change of mind. I also reminded her I had my old licensee boss's glowing written reference (which had said how well I worked).

Grinning at my appearance, my sister asked me where and when I’d bought “that” (pointing to the corset) and had I bought it for my old boyfriend and did mum know about it. I told her chuckling, about how I came to be wearing it, before asking her if she’d pull the lacing at the back tight so she could see the full effect. Moments later, with both of us giggling as I held firmly onto the lounge, Sue pulled the corset lacing at the back as tightly as possible.

When she had tied it off and I was standing up straight, the top half of my two girls only an inch or so above my nipples, were now very prominently displayed. I told my sister that I’d wear the corset (if she could arrange an interview) to try and convince the owner about the idea of not needing to see boobs drooping about everywhere. I told her that it might help me get a job there, by showing him a woman wearing something sexy might very well appeal to his patrons, especially if I could perhaps do some butt wiggling when collecting the empties. Sue wasn't convinced and it showed.

I then explained to her that the hotel’s licence should have been required the licensee to abide by stringent rules about semi naked (topless) staff. I knew about those rules, because I’d sat around one day at the hotel back in Wagga, with the licensee and some of the other staff discussing the possibilities of that hotel turning one of its bars into a “gentlemen’s only private bar". To be part of that club, which anyone would be allowed to join, the patrons would have to pay a yearly membership fee upfront first, then only they would be able to be served in a walled off area (with no access visible or available to non-members) by barmaids dressed in sexy lingerie outfits.

I told her how my old boss had even thought of allowing women to join as members (provided they paid the same membership fee). He was confident that enough women would want to pay to become members to make it a financially viable private club, especially so if “some of the bar staff were buff young men who worked shirtless, or possibly only wearing speedos! The main problem facing my former boss was that outfits like I had on would have certainly meant a change to the licencing requirements for the entire hotel. He felt that the additional expense, mightn’t make the hotel viable financially, operating an alcohol licenced “Private Club” bar inside the hotel proper.

Sue immediately understood what I was telling her about the rules possibly being relaxed (and a less expensive licence) at her old hotel, if the female staff no longer needed to be semi naked - topless. She told me she could remember it was always a sore point with the owner of the hotel I wanted the job at. He was always frustrated that the government already set the retail price levels he could charge the public for selling them alcohol. The brewery who supplied the hotel was also adamant that he had to operate the hotel as a topless hotel, or they wouldn’t renew his lease when it was time for renewal (every 2 years for the hotel).

My sister laughed at the audaciousness of my plan, before dashing back into her room to return a few minutes later wearing a sexy orange coloured black trimmed Basque, with matching knickers under a short skirt. She told me that “these” clothes were much less expensive and provided easier movement for working in then my corset. Sue had several others that she changed into to show me, and was how Craig saw the two of us when he came home, a quickly broadening smile at seeing both of us in sexy lingerie. My sister casually explained why we were wearing what we were, as his facial expression turned incredulous finding out something new about his girlfriend he’d never previously known about.

My suggestion at least made Sue think about the idea. I thought that if “someone” who already knew the licensee and possibly had worked there was to present my idea from that point of view, then it just could be he might be persuaded into hiring me. Sue seemed to reluctantly agree, but reminded me that the present owner had an ever growing list of potential applicants he could choose from already.

So I reminded her that if I was correct in thinking what I’d read up on and from what I could remember back in Wagga, then perhaps this licensee owner could be talked into thinking of hiring me if “someone/Sue” were to suggest I may have some other ideas he might be able to use, before telling Sue I had no idea about anything else yet………..but wasn’t it at least worth a try?

It took several days of hearing nothing from my sister until after dinner on Thursday evening, Sue told me (along with Craig) that she’d spoken to her old boss and told him she had a sister, very experienced as a barmaid who was looking for casual work…..and so on and so forth. She grinned while telling me I now had an interview on Sunday afternoon at 3pm about a possible job there!

I was both nervous and excited about the news, while for the rest of the evening Sue continued to remind me constantly about the upper body measurements of the female staff working there. She told me I’d have to do something absolutely incredible, for him (the licensee) at the interview to even consider being hired as a barmaid. Especially someone like me who wasn’t willing to take their kit off and show her boobs to the patrons.

On Saturday afternoon Sue and I went to somewhere she called Paddy’s Markets, where they had hundreds of stalls that sold everything from fresh fruit to toys, along with a lot of stalls selling clothing and several in particular that sold sexy apparel (both male and female). She told me she’d bought her outfits from one of the stalls and at much cheaper prices than sex shops and specialty lingerie stores sold them. Sue also “told” Craig he couldn’t come with us, telling him this was “private family business” . She did imply to him though, that he might get a pleasant surprise tonight if he was a good boy and behaved himself by tidying up around the unit.

The markets turned out to be just those back in Essex (or anywhere else). Between Sue and I, we (she) selected a couple of Basque tops (both with matching briefs) in my size, with her telling me that if I got a job there, I may need a few more if the licensee liked my idea, but that we could always come back in a few weeks’ time.

On the drive back from the markets, Sue detoured to show me where the hotel was, the sight of which had me beginning to believe that my sister may have been right about me not wanting to work there. The outside of the hotel didn’t look that frightening, but the locals walking along the streets and main road surrounding it, certainly wouldn’t have made the cover of a magazine.

When we finally got home, Sue made a great production of showing the bags we were carrying to her boyfriend, but not the contents inside them. I went to my room to put both outfits in the drawer until tomorrow. I then spent the rest of the afternoon doing a quick “Nair” of my legs (I never used a razor for fear of nicks and cuts) and carefully making sure that no hairs showed under my arms or someplace else a lot further south of my armpits!

Anyway, early Sunday afternoon, Sue helped me get changed into the royal blue and black satin coloured Basque set she felt looked best on me. The panty bottom of which also had had attached suspenders dangling from them (an accidental bonus because the price label on the bag had been incorrectly priced as Basques sets without suspenders). Sue had offered me yesterday (at the markets) the loan of a pair of her quality black stockings to wear. I had my own pair of ballet flats to wear on my feet. My sister also provided a heavy long trench coat I could wear until I revealed underneath for the interview. Then with Craig driving us, we headed for the hotel shortly after 2.15pm.

Once there, Sue knowing the layout of the hotel, organised to get me quickly inside and to probably where the interview was going to take place. I sat very self-conscious in the long trench coat, that any person walking past us, would have thought I was someone acting out a part in a cheap B grade detective movie fantasy. A short time later saw a heavily built guy in his forties, along with a quite tall woman in her mid-thirties (I thought) introduce themselves to me. Both of them remembered my sister fondly judging from their cordial greetings with Sue.

The room we then walked into and sat down in was some sort of large meeting room/hall. The owner, whose name I now knew as Dominic/Dom, (the lady’s name was Trudy) bluntly asked me why I wanted to work there. Sue took over from that point on, first damning me for not having a big bust, but then talking up the fact I had a lot of experience as a barmaid back in Wagga and that my old boss would confirm it if Dom wanted to ring him. I handed over my folder with my old boss’s written reference in it for them to read, as my own contribution to the interview.

Dominic wasted little time in ringing up the hotel and asking for my old boss. After he was connected, it saw a lot of questions (unable to be understood by Sue or me were the muffled replies) and some exclamations from Dominic, as he listened to things my old boss was saying about me. When Dom hung up, he quickly asked me how to make a "tequila sunrise" and after I answered him, just as rapidly asked about a “screaming orgasm” (another popular drink) and did so several more times, before Trudy remarked that I seemed to know how to make a cocktail.

Dominic still seemed to appear as if he wasn’t that interested. So I decided to take on my own defence and cheekily asked him about some of the limitations in his licence. This seemed to set him off, asking me what I’d know about that. I quickly told him about how my old boss had thought about a set up similar to this one at his hotel. Then needlessly reminding him I didn’t have big boobs, told him I thought that the patrons mightn’t be too upset about me not being topless, if I worked in an outfit like this…… standing up casually and revealing the outfit I wore under the trench coat.

After removing the coat I walked over to the far wall wiggling my butt hopefully, before stopping to reach over a table there and pick up a “heaven placed” metal tray on it. I then mimicked picking up empty glasses. After deliberately bending over slightly and pausing (to show off my satin clad derrière), I began doing an imaginary wipe of the table top, before turning round and walking back to sit down at my seat, placing the tray on the floor beside me.

As I sat down, Trudy loudly remarked to Dom (and in a rather pleased tone I thought) how I’d just showed him exactly what she had talked about to him several times……“Men might like looking at titties, but give them some one pretty, wearing sexy underwear and they’ll stare till their blind and drink another gallon of booze” she told him confidently. Dom still didn’t appear to be impressed with my theatrics, so I stood up and asked Trudy where the nearest serving lounge was and would she lead me there. Cheekily telling Sue to bring her old boss along as well, I asked Trudy to lead the way. She did so while smiling perhaps at my audacity, but apparently willing to humour me to see what I intended to do now.

The bar Trudy led me to, luckily wasn’t the main public bar. Then without asking permission, I quickly walked to the side entrance of the bar and behind it, moving over to where the beer taps were and a barmaid was serving. I asked one of two people waiting there what they wanted to drink. My sexy attire hadn’t gone unnoticed by the patrons that had seen me walk into the bar and the duty barmaid seemed more than happy to stand back and let a cheeky stranger do her job for her.

I ended up serving drinks for the next ten minutes. Beer as well as a few cocktail requests and several simple spirits orders, all very efficiently I might add. Each time I’d hand the patron’s money to the now grinning barmaid, who did the till work for me, while she thanked such and such whenever they tipped all or part of the change she handed them.

With a casual remark that I’d go and collect the empties to the serving barmaid, I walked out from behind the bar picking up a metal tray at the entrance and proceeded to walk/sashay across the room to several tables (again shamelessly wiggling my butt). I began talking to patrons there as I cleared the tables of empties, casually showing off the tops of my girls and walking away, showing my satin clad bottom. I just hoped that every pair of eyes at the tables I just cleared was staring at it. When I eventually came back behind the bar after collecting a second tray of empty glasses, I knowledgably started filling up the dishwasher with the empties. Then nonchalantly going back to a now suddenly more crowded serving area, helped serve animated patrons all wanting me to serve them and not the actual on duty barmaid (broadly grinning at my outlandish performance).

Dominic, my sister and Trudy had been standing together watching, before Trudy called out asking the patrons if they liked the look of the new costumes the hotel was thinking of getting for the staff. The loud shouts of approval had her turning towards Dominic and smiling broadly. I think she might have mouthed “see what I mean”. Dominic came over and told Gail (the barmaid I’d barged in on) to “carry on serving”, before asking me to join him and Trudy back in the interview room.

When we all sat down in there again, Dominic still wasn’t ready to admit he’d been silently wrong about not wanting to hire me. So instead he asked what days and hours I could work, before Trudy told him to stop being a galah and just hire me. Then turning to me and my sister, Trudy gave us a huge smile before telling me to wait around. She said she needed to get some paperwork for me to fill out. Dom and her then got up and left the two of us alone. Both my sister and I were grinning at each other like Cheshire cats before reaching over to hug me. She then told me I was on my own working here after today and that neither of us should ever tell mum or dad about the place.

When Trudy came back in about ten minutes later, she was accompanied by two other women, obviously both barmaids worked there by their “sans tops”. They introduced themselves (one must have known Sue already) and asked me to give them a quick fashion show. So I stood up and strutted my stuff to obvious approval of my lingerie outfit along with the usual where did you buy it and how much. Sue took back over again, talking about the outfits I wore and so forth, while I filled out an A4 piece of paper with my various personal details Trudy had given me. Trudy then rang on her mobile ordering drinks from one of the bars, with Sue naming my poison for me.

The four of them then sat around and played the “do you remember so and so game” while I sat and listened on silently. Another barmaid came in and handed us our drinks, staring at me and the outfit I was wearing, before going back outside and closing the door. Trudy told the four of us that she’d already begun spreading the word about a possible change of uniform if she had her way with the big Lug (Dominic). She then asked the two barmaids if they thought that 2 outfits per girl would be enough and was told yes.

She then stated that Dom might also have to look into stocking them for patrons to consider buying for wives or girlfriends as well (that was one of my ideas I hadn’t yet had the opportunity to mention). Trudy wondered aloud if Dom was already on the phone trying to find out if the topless policy could be abandoned and whether some of the other regulations might be able to be relaxed as well. This got her, my sister and the two barmaids talking about things I still had no idea of yet.

A short time later Trudy broke the gathering up saying that “old tight arse” wasn’t paying the three of them to sit on their backsides and drink his profits. Shortly after the other two left, Sue and I gave Trudy our own thanks and stood up to leave. Trudy told me she’d phone me tomorrow around 5 to tell me what day and time she wanted me to start and she’d give me the rest of my work roster for the month as well (OMG!). She needlessly reminded me she wanted me to wear the same outfit when I started, so Dominic could gauge other patron’s reactions and so that some of the other staff could see what they might be wearing.

She then added that Jill (so “that” was the name of the barmaid who’d served us our drinks) was already talking about wearing a short skirt with her corset, to which my sister reminded Trudy that I was actually wearing a “Basque”, not a corset which had Trudy replying “whatever” before adding she hoped that Dom could find out who made them so he could buy them cheaply, as if everything was already a forgone conclusion.

After putting on my trench coat to walk outside, Trudy escorted the two of us out to the car, that Craig was now asleep in. The car door opening quickly woke him as both of us then got in without saying a word. Craig started the car and slowly drove out of the hotel’s car park before asking what had happened. The rest of the car trip saw Sue giving a dramatic retelling of all that had happened, while I found out what had been said while I’d been working in the bar.

When we got home I retreated to my room and got changed into something more respectable, while Craig’s request to see what I had on was ruthlessly quashed by Sue. We all settled on toasted sandies for tea, a bit of TV then and an early night, which shortly after I had turned off my light and was beginning to fall off to sleep, was interrupted by about half an hour of noisy Sue, “ahem…I meant to type sex” from the bedroom next to mine.

Lectures the following day seemed to last forever and I got home, anxiously waiting for Trudy to phone me, which didn’t happen when she said she’d phone me. By 7pm and with no phone call, my sister was telling me not to be too upset as it seemed as if Dom and Trudy must have decided against hiring me.

Just before 8pm Trudy “did” ring and apologised for the delay (I wasn’t going to tell her what I’d been thinking) and gave me my start date (the following Sunday 10am till 4pm) and my other two shifts, all of which were the least popular for people tending bar I already knew from experience. The Tuesday and Thursday 10am till 4pm shifts, meant that I’d probably have to do any clean-up missed from the previous night’s closing staff, as well as missing out on the lucrative tips from patrons coming in after finishing work at 3.30 to 5pm.

Still my hourly pay rate was considerably higher than back at my old hotel in Wagga and I’d just have to wait and see about the “tips” (the spellcheckers correct). When I related my hours to Sue, she thought the same way I did, but said that in time and if I proved myself, I’d very likely see my hours changing to include “better tipping” hours. The only good thing about my start date was that patrons generally left change behind when paying for meals and drinks. Besides which (my sister informed me) in areas like the beer “garden”, usually the patrons were better behaved.

I spent the rest of the week going to my lectures or on Tuesday and Thursday or doing whatever I felt like, since I didn’t feel like studying. I’d also decided not to tell any of my fellow students about my part time work…..for obvious reasons!

One thing I had done a few days after arriving was to inquire into cricket clubs in the local area, where I might possibly be able to find a game even though it was in the latter half of the season. There were lots of playing fields in the area along with a number of cricket clubs, but I quickly found out that the NSWWCA (New South Wales Women’s Cricket Association) was considerably larger than the almost non-existent set up for women playing cricket back in Wagga. I also discovered that although they had thriving competitions over several grades (and mostly on turf), that on attending several practices that I’d been invited to attend over the phone, the standard was far lower than men’s grade cricket back in Wagga.

There were some good women players at the four practices I attended and both clubs were eager to have me play for them. But it became obvious after I bowled around a dozen balls to different batters (NOT batsmen or batswomen thank you very much) and being able to comfortably bat against their fast bowlers, I decided instead to keep looking for a men’s competition I could play in.

Sue told me about a well-known cricket club over near where she worked, called the Western Suburbs District Cricket Club based at Pratten Park Ashfield (they were known as the Magpies or Maggies because their colours were predominantly black with a dash of white). I spoke with the club contact when I rang them, who told me I should stick to playing women’s cricket. He didn’t even invite me to turn up and at least be looked at. It was the same with a club at Parramatta and I even looked at subdistricts (shires) on the website.

In the end I phoned a cricket club, actually close by to where I lived who played in the premier competition in Sydney. The club Fairfield Liverpool Cricket Club (FLCC) would normally have been my first choice because of convenience, but a quick look on their website tended to show they were a young and struggling club. (They actually had had a test fast bowler play at the club – Doug Bollinger back in 2002 till he retired in 2016). A phone call to the secretary there didn’t receive the “thanks but no thanks” I’d received elsewhere so far either. He did suggest if I wanted to, I could turn up at one of their practices, although now very late in the season and they’d look at me (he seemed sceptical of my claims). He also hastily added that he wasn’t making any promises to me about actually getting a game in 5th grade (their lowest side).

In the end I did turn up at one of their practices and immediately ran into the “credibility problem” faced by any woman wanting to try and play in a men’s competition. I was first of all told about the costs of playing. It was obviously assumed by someone that once I heard about how much it cost, I’d quickly skulk away with my tail between my legs.

I simply smiled and muttered some sort of acknowledgement (although I wanted to choke at the cost) and after several uncomfortable minutes of indecision by the club representative I’d been foisted upon, was led over and introduced to the 5th grade captain. He (Trevor) simply asked me what I did and upon answering him, was directed to a small bucket of cricket balls with the advice to find one and mark out my run up, adding not to get in the road of anybody already bowling.

I quickly chose the best ball I could find from the bucket, the contents of which any self-respecting mongrel dog would have ignored entirely, before heading over to the bowling area to begin pacing out my run up. Several guys were looking on in silent contempt, but at least one of them had the manners to introduce himself to me (Colin) and wasn’t surprised to observe (and comment on) that I marked out a spin bowler’s length run up distance from the stumps. He even informed me when it was my turn to bowl in the rotation.

My first (practice) ball for what would become my home club wasn’t that surprising to me although everyone else was. The batsman who I bowled it to seemed stunned. The trajectory of that first ball was faultless, as was my length and it bounced while sharply spinning away to my left “just” catching the faintest of edges off the batsman’s bat, that could /(should) have possibly seen him caught in slips, if not by the wicketkeeper himself.

The fact that I ripped the ball so hard that it gave off a slight buzzing sound through the air wasn’t lost on my sceptical bowlers audience either, judging from the comments they made. The usual loud shout of “how’s that” by several of them, along with laughter saw me being congratulated by Colin. A few more hopeless prods forward by the same batsman against my next few deliveries soon had me being accepted by the club’s 5th grade bowling fraternity.

A half hour and two batsman later, my bowling along with the loud encouragement being voiced by the other bowlers in the 5th grade net, now saw quite a crowd gathered behind the nets at the back of the batsman, as well as several older players watching from behind me. I loved cricket, especially bowling, so it was like being in nirvana and my happy grin showed how pleased I was to be there.

A tap on my shoulder found someone asking me could I follow him, which saw me being directed to another net to bowl. I quickly discovered that the batsman at this other net was far more capable than those I’d been bowling to and it helped me lift my efforts bowling to him. When that batsman misread my handgrip and edged a “wrong on” up in the air, high enough and long enough for a possible catch by someone fielding at bat-pad, the bowlers at this net quietly congratulated me. When I deliberately bowled “a shooter” with my next delivery that saw it go quickly under the bat and hit the stumps, my bowling compatriots were loud in their praise as were several other people looking on.

I ended up spending the rest of the practice bowling in that net (which was their 2nd grades). Often they’d ask me to bowl a certain type of ball, wrong un, leggie, topspinner, flipper, slider, arm ball. Generally I was able to do so, usually landing it on the correct spot on the pitch, to cause the batsman playing it some difficulties. I only had one ball smashed out of the nets and even that was a skewed miss hit.

At the end of the practice I was welcomed to go to the clubhouse for a drink, where upon I was asked to relate where I had played and in which grade. I was also told (sadly for me) the club’s last game of the season was starting that weekend, but they’d like me to play if someone dropped out of one of the teams at the last minute (alas that didn’t occur). But the secretary who I’d spoken to on the phone, was now “demanding” I write down my contact details for him to notify me when practices started up for next season, which he told me would be sometime around the middle of June or at the latest the beginning of July.

With the news of a new season starting sometime in June or July flying around in my head, lectures the next day didn’t seem so bad. My sister (when I’d told her about what had happened) the previous night after I came home, just sighed loudly and said I should be thinking about other types of balls………and not cricket ones either.