“But this shirt cost $250,” said club hopper Martin Aaron. “The spot is not on your shirt, but on your soul,” Tom said as he crossed Martin’s name off the list.
I’m all for different perspectives and all that,” said manager Bill, “but that new door guy’s letting in way too many fatties.” In defense of his choices Tom said, “Every one of those ladies had a bright aura.” Replied Bill, “Dude, they’re fucking whales!”
While it looks like Tom will be a permanent fixture at the club, given his uncle is the owner, the attendance of the once hot-spot is dwindling. “This club has really gone downhill,” said club regular, Bobby Thomson. “I mean, the girls are nice and all, but I can’t fuck nice. I heard this new club down the street, Privilege, has a scale, and if the girl weighs over 115 pounds, they don’t get in. Now that’s where I wanna buy $15 drinks.”
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