That Night at BeBe's

That Night at BeBe’s

As long as you keep buying I’ll tell you about that night at BeBe’s. As in BeBe’s Lounge and Gentlemen’s club.  Actually, there was never no lady owner at BeBe’s.  It was a guy named Anthony Castellenato, A greaseball who had some uncle in Jersey that was connected and fronted the money for this joint.  He had the dirtiest fingernails I ever saw. Gross.  Which was funny because the only thing he ever touched was the money and an occasional quick feel as he passed through us girls’ dressing room.  Actually we gals thought that BeBe’s was one of those, ah, what’s it ?- “nim” words; you know, like synonym or acronym or sumthin that stood for Bodacious Bazooms. Just a little joke between us girls, you know.

But I digress

That night one of the new gals was on first. She went by “Dee Lite,” though I think her real name was Shirley DeLucca. Now Shirley may have been new but she realized she had to have some gimmick to get the bucks.  So Shirley had gotten this Panama albino python snake from some guy that sold smuggled pets like them parrots with a big feather hat on top, “Cocka-something” they’re called, I think. Anyway Shirley. er, “Dee,” got the snake to put it into her act doing the old bump and grind, but with the snake wrapped around her.  The snake was big, but Shirley was told by the guy that if she kept it fed and gave it tranquilizers, it would remain harmless.  She did.  We all named the snake “Tina”. However greaseball Tony did not like the thing and he had a cage made that Dee had to perform in, assuring that Tina wouldn’t get out.  He feared that these so-called macho men would stampede if the thing got free.  Men always brag how manly they are, but put a spider or snake near ‘em and they scream like little girls.

But I digress

That day Dee had the flu and she wouldn’t listen when we told her to drink a lot of water, so when she got into the cage and started her gig, she got dizzy and passed out.  They called the paramedics to come and Dee got carried out of the cage and taken to the ER by ambulance.  Now, that left Tina by herself, and they didn’t know if they had closed the cage door immediately after they got Dee out or not.

 Somebody had to go into that cage and see what was up.  Tony certainly wasn’t going in and all the bar backs suddenly got very busy washing glasses and stuff.  So guess who it was left to? - Me… famous as Miss Kitty Tang, K.T. for short, and still going strong strutting my goods after 23 years.  The other gals are strippers, but me; I’m an “Icky-dizziest,” which means a really much classier stripper, I heard that once. Anyway I have bigger man-berries than any guy in the joint. Why, once I got cornered by four lunkheads by the back door one night after closing.  I didn’t even call for Tony. It was “Mace-in-the-face” and kick in the balls for em all and they ran like turkeys in a field before Thanksgiving.

But I digress

The cage that Dee did her act in was in a corner and kinda dark without her stage spots on. They didn’t want to make a big kerfuffle, because it was a Saturday night, which was our biggest money maker. Tony was afraid that any attention would clear the room, so I had to go in to see what was up with Tina.  Tina had gotten loose once before from her tank in the back, and they found she had gotten a nice cool spot coiled in a toilet bowl in the ladies room. She was just fine there until Cindy (aka “Honey Potts”) had come in for a dump above her, which upset Tina, who bit her in the ass.  Well, we found Tina, and Cindy only needed 3 stitches.

But I digress.

Now Tina had teeth, and I didn’t know how much Prozac she had or when Dee had fed her, so going into this cage I had to be cautious. Pythons kill by squeezing their food to death but Tina was big enough to give a decent clomp if she hankered to. Honey could attest to that.

 I had only a penlight and a glitter baton to assist me.  I didn’t even know if Tina was still in that cage.  I stepped into the dark cubicle, shining the light, fussin around with the baton. No Tina.  Crap.  Now what?  She had gotten out. Geez, I had to think fast.  Gracious Giselle, a twit with big tetas, was on and I was supposed to follow two acts after her. I wasn’t even dressed yet. What to do?  Tony wouldn’t do shit, but if I didn’t do something and Tina was discovered in the lounge and cleared the joint, he sure as hell would blame me.  Besides I had to go on and get my tips.  I saw this cute cut-out bra in the Fredrick’s catalogue that would add some pizzazz to my act and needed the bread to order it.

But I digress

I smiled, I schmoozed, and I batted my big Maybelline lashes as I circled the room, trying to be casual, looking under tables and in the cubbies.   The joint was jammed and it was dark except for the stage. Nothing. And more nothing.  It was time to get ready. I went backstage and put on my string, pasties and signature cat hat and whiskers, came out, and did my act.  Sixty bucks I picked up from those dumb ass johns all slobbering and sloshing as I went through my gig, all the time listening for a scream from some dork discovering a 6 foot snake under his chair.  Didn’t happen.  So after my act and 2am call, we shut down the joint- I’m sorry. “We shuttered the lounge,”  I had gone through the kitchen under the fry station and sinks, in the johns again, the dressing room, the beer store room and even Tony’s office, where I saw tote wager slips from the track . That S.O.B. was skimming at the races again and that makes me angry. 

But I digress.

 Tina wasn’t in any of those places. . But I won’t leave you hanging out to dry here, pal, - And I’ll take another Appletini, please. Thanks.  No, the next day this salesman from Cleveland; I think he sold tractor parts; he drives home and parks his Lexus in his driveway and goes in to go sleep. His old lady takes the car keys and drives to the market and … and, well the Cleveland Heights paper reported “Suburban matron finds huge tropical snake in car and crashes into store in a panic.” Hey it was probably warm with the car sittin in the sun and Tina got active so when the babe got in the car to go home she slithered her way up from the back seat to see what was going on .  I would loved to see that broad’s face when she turned and saw Tina lookin back at her.   We all heard about it. I bet that guy had the you-know-what beaten out of him by his old lady.  So, you’re gonna ask , how in hell did Tina get into that car?  Hey, babe, you’re talking to Miss Kitty here.  This is one cookie who knows which side she’s buttered on. In this business, ya got to keep your wits. That night I actually did find Tina. She was curled up a nice and cozy in the nook the public phone is in, by the front entrance.  I couldn’t carry her back into the club and through it, ‘cause Tony would have a fit if I brought the snake thru, scaring all the johns. Bad fer business. So I lugged Tina up over my shoulder and lurched out to the parking lot and put her in the first car I found unlocked. I knew the owner would never dare say where the snake came from and admit to his dirty little secret nights out, so we were cool.  I thought I really pulled this one out of the wringer. Although Dee was pissed when she got out of the ER and found I had dumped her prop.

Geez, that was one hell of a night at Be-Be’s. Hey, I gotta go over to the club and fluff my wig up for tonight. Good talking to ya. Thanks fer the booze.  Come see my show later. A gal always needs a little extra money for stockings, right?  I’m on last. The Star, you know.

 
-Jerry Wendt 2014