I'm Milo, the manager.


My uncle Florentine owns a whole string of these places and a few adult book shops, all up and down both east and west coasts.


We're a big catholic family so me and my brothers and cousins always have jobs.


I've been at this location for almost 6 years now and honestly, I like it.


Sure, there's high turnover with the girls, and drama from time to time, but honestly, things run pretty smooth here for the most part.


The most trouble I've had in semi-recent times was when this washed-up rockstar from the 90s came in here with Wife Du Jour and wanted her to dance up on stage.


Now, sometimes we do that. We will let the ladies get up there and try it out. They have to fill out the paperwork and show their ID, and usually they are good for one or two songs and everyone is happy.


This bitch gets up there and takes full ownership of the stage.


Like, she's good. Really good.


And every guy in the audience wants a piece of that.


They're throwin' 20s her way and she is eating it all up.


The music stops and the next thing you know, she's off in the back giving lap dances!


Needless to say, hubby wasn't happy and he goes and grabs her by the arm and tries to drag her out of there.


Some of my bouncers didn't know this was her husband and they wind up taking this guy down.


She's off crying, the dude is flailing around, threatening to kill us all, and my new guy, Nate, gets so worked up, he has to run to the nearest toilet to shit.


Evidently, he has IBS.


The girls come screaming out of the dressing room, tits out because the nearest shitter just happened to be theirs.


Meanwhile, the old rockstar is still hollering and his topless wifey has now run to him and is cradling his head, screaming "Let him go, you fucking fucks!"


It was mayhem.


Eventually, he calmed down and he stands up, throws his bitch over his shoulder and they leave.


My girls though are still screaming because Nate and his IBS has stunk up that whole entire side of the building - Macy, the bartender, even threw her hands up in the air and walked right out.


I managed to get everyone calm, including Macy, including the girls.


I brought in some Lysol and sprayed the hell out of the building and told Nate to get his fuckin bowels under control.


Poor dude, he can't really help it, but maybe he shouldn't be a bouncer.


He's only 5'6 anyway, but he is a blackbelt in something or another so I hired him.


Most of the gals like him well enough, so I let him stay.


I get complaints from time to time about him sneaking into the dressing room though, to do his business yet again.


If that's all he does wrong though, I gotta keep him.


Bouncers come and go around here, and if I can find one that's not gonna try to fuck the girls, I am pleased as a pig in shit.


None of the girls would ever fuck Nate, so he's golden.


Anyway, that rockstar douche came back in here a few nights after the big altercation. He came in and apologized and said that he and his lady would be back sometime, but only as spectators.


Then he gave me a Rolex and shook my hand.


A month or two later, Wifey walks in and asks for a job.


Apparently, they split up and she was now "free," as she put it, to do what she pleased.


She went by Aziza and made bank in here until she met some older dude and they disappeared off into the sunset.


I've never seen any of them since.


This job is pretty dull, except when shit like that happens.


And when Nate clears out the ladies' dressing room...