Creepy man tries to pick up ChristinaWait for it. Here it comes.

“Hey pretty thing! Can you get me a Jack and Coke, while I drink in all of your loveliness.”

At this point in my life I’m surprised my eyes haven’t permanently rolled inside my brain. Really, I’ve only heard that particular line twelve times since I started my shift. Yes, I get it, I work in a bar and you want to drink me in. Wow! That’s real original douchebag. You’re as creative as the people who made the last Jurassic Park movie. Of course, this freak gawking over me looks like the caveman from the Geico commercials. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to pound me over the head with his caveman club and drag me back to his cave. While the bartender hands me his drink, I wonder what stupid line he’s about to extoll on me next.

“Why thank you, mademoiselle. May I say you look as lovely as Natalie Wood.” Great, I look like a dead actress. “My sweet, you should be in the movies. I can see it now…” The creep feverishly and frantically looks for my name tag. Damn, he found it. “Christina…” I ain’t telling you my last name… “starring in the new hit movie, Murder Reno.” Great… this slime turd wants me to star in a slasher movie, or something equally repulsive. Please, just stay away, O.J.

While this psycho loon cake continues to ramble on, I do my best to ignore his ramblings and get back to work. Yeah, right. It’s going to be pretty fucking impossible to work with a cockroach shoving a phone in my face.

“See, right here,” I’m not looking, dou che, “I received this text from an independent filmmaker and they are asking people to appear in the new movie, Murder Reno. You and I should go down together and try out.”

“Only if I can kill you,” I whisper to myself, as I shove the phone away.

Several minutes later while I’m taking a quick smoke break on the veranda—yes I know, I shouldn’t be smoking where customers might frequent, but if I smell like an ashtray I might repel some of these neophytes—I receive a rather curious text. I quietly read the message and it becomes quite apparent the human hairball was telling me the truth. Hmm! Five hundred dollars for getting slashed to death in a B movie; sounds like an utter waste of time but, honestly, is it any worse than having my soul die every day at this crummy bar? My life has spiraled to the depths of despair and this might give me something to hang my hat on. However, will appearing in a slasher movie really elevate my self-esteem? Will it help me forget the fact that my life is stuck in the drain? Up to this point my life has been a wad of clogged hair in need of some Drano, so it won’t hurt to try out. Anyway, I can certainly use the $500. Minimum wage and nominal tips only go so far in a waitress’s life.

However, if I go down to this audition that creep might see me and get attached to me, like gum to the bottom of my shoe. I can hear him now, “Oooh baby, I knew you would come. Why don’t we practice our lines over dinner tonight?” Not to sound all valley girl, but “gag me with a spoon.” Pour acid down my face and let my skin peel off. Here at the bar, I can kinda control the situation. I might not be able to down there, but who’s to say he’s even going to be there.

What should I do?

Will Christina decide to be an extra in the movie, Murder Reno?




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