Ginny's Story A novel by Karen Lockhart Copyright© 2018 Karen Lockhart All Rights Reserved.

CHAPTER 82

The first person I spotted was Cathy, who gave me a big smile and a wave. Taking in how she was dressed. I wanted to swap with her. She was wearing the cutest poodle skirt in pink, and a white Oxford cloth shirt with button down collar points. Around her neck she had a black silk scarf.

All I could think was it was a good thing Cathy hadn't shown up for our date wearing this, because if she had, I'd have worn jeans and a flannel shirt.

After a half hour or so, I headed to their end of the bar, bearing gifts of course; a Cosmopolitan for Hiram and a draft PBR for Cathy. This gave me a chance to invite them for Thanksgiving.

Cathy spoke first, “Well, do I look different from the last time you saw me?”

“Thank goodness,” I said, “If you were dressed like this, I couldn't stand the competition.”

That got laughs from her and Hiram; Cathy of course doing a great 'Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer' impression.

“While I have both of you together, would you like to join us for Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday?”

“Thank you Ginny, but I've been spoken for already,” said Hiram. “I'm joining Bobbi and Ian for dinner, but I think Cathy is free.”

I turned to her and said, “Everyone would love to have you, in whichever persona you feel like, Cathy.”

“Ginny, please call me Jack, no matter how I'm dressed and I would love to come, what time?”

“That's great Jack, drinks at one and dinner about two. The football games will be on all day. I would say come as you are, but you would be Cinderella to our three step sisters if you looked like this, hun.”

Oh crap, did I just call Jack 'HUN'?

“I almost forgot!” I said hurriedly. “I have to go upstairs and invite Ariana. I'll be back in a bit.”

As I climbed the stairs I could hear the end of a Helen Reddy song. Yep, she's here.

I stopped and chatted with Joy at the bar and would you believe it, she asked how my date went. I smell Bobbi's fine hand behind this.

I was watching the stage for when Ariana took her break. Great timing, it
got me away from more questions.

I knocked on her door. Getting a “Come In”, I slid in to the phone booth sized dressing room and hugged Ariana saying, “Wendy's been at your place lately, I've missed you.”

“I know Ginny; our day off schedules are different. What brings you up from the big show below?”

That got a laugh from me. “Ariana, Thursday's Thanksgiving, and we all want you to join us for dinner. If we don't see you by 12:30, Pete will put out a BOLO. So it's a yes?”

“How can I say 'no', but I don't belong there, look at my father...”

I cut her off, “Nonsense. Thanksgiving is for family and friends. Wendy would die if you weren't there, so say 'Yes Ginny'.”

Laughing, she said, “Yes Ginny.”

As I left, I said, “You can meet my date.”

Quickly closing the door and heading for the stairs before she could react, I returned to the bar just in time. The girls were buried in orders. Quickly grabbing most of the cocktails, I caught us up in fifteen minutes or so.

Seeing a wave from Hiram, I headed down with a second round of drinks for the lads. Not much time to gab, the waitresses were three deep at the waitress stations with drink orders. The Logans were raking it in tonight since the club would be closed Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and of course Sunday next week.

Finally last call, thirty minutes to go for tonight. These heels are killing me!

While waiting for Jean, Ariana joined me at the back door to chat.

“Your date? In this place? Are you into he-she dates?” Ariana asked with a big smile on he face.

“Actually, yes, someone from here. And no.”

Well you could have knocked her over with a feather. Jean joined us then and added to Ariana's surprise. “You should have seen her tonight! Olivia Newton-John eat your heart out.”

“Olivia who?” asked Ariana.

“The movie “Grease” with John Travolta. She was the female lead who sang.

This was no help to her. “I never heard of it.”

“Kiddo, you and Wendy have to watch it, I'll give her my DVD copy.”

“Okay, but who is your date?”

I looked into the parking lot, “See the hot babe in the pink poodle skirt near the red Escalade? That's my date.”

Now she was totally flustered, “Her? She's a 10! No way is she pre-surgery.”

“Under those nylons and make-up is a hetero-sexual man who loves to dress up at night and become a woman for six hours. What would you say if I told you she is a professional ball player?”

Ariana was speechless.

“You'll meet her Thanksgiving.” said Jean, “ 'night kiddo, us oldies need our sleep.”

We hopped into the suv, and headed north.

Everyone was asleep when I got home, so after a quick shower, I was asleep in no time.

Waking at 9:30 I wandered into the kitchen for coffee and breakfast. Pancakes and Canadian bacon today, I figured to have burgers and fries for supper. Saturday, I'd need the carbos and grease to make it through the night.

Jean picked me up around the regular time and we chatted about the Bruins on the ride in. Too soon I was tying on my apron and mixing drinks.

We could have used a fourth mixologist tonight. It was three deep at the bar, and the waitresses could have used roller skates! When my break came, I ran for the lounge to take my heels off and have a peaceful, cold Dr Pepper.

Fifteen minutes later, it was Bobbi's turn. I slid my size 8 pumps on and returned to the bar. I finally got down to Cathy and Hiram with two drinks each. 'Two drinks, no waiting'.

Hiram laughed at me. He thought I had lost ten pounds tonight, and it wasn't over yet.

Another night like this, and stuff the 4” heels, I'm wearing Nikes!

I must say though, the tips were over the top! By night's end, I had $1,300 in tips. The heels made no difference. Being pretty and tossing bottles in the air was most of it.

I bet Jean made enough to buy a small German car.

2 AM, closing time! Tomorrow's Sunday, a day off.

Jean finally looked tired, when I noted this, she languidly stretched and smiled.

“I worked harder for better tips, I made $3,000 tonight, it was worth it.”

“What do you usually make?”

“About $2,000 on Friday and Saturday, $1500 the other nights. Like you, that's above my daily pay remember.”

And I gave that up for the torture of 4-5” heels that will cause my tendons to contract!

“Monday, I'm asking Ian Logan if we can wear cross-trainers behind the bar.”

Jean snorted, “Ask your pal that owns the place instead.”

“Ian's been good to me,” I said, “I won't go over his head.”

“Okay, your choice. See you Monday, Bye, Bye.”

I staggered into the house, hating to take the time to remove my make-up, before falling into bed.

To be continued.