Taste of Fizzy Wine

My first real money making night came during my first week, where I was paired up with a charming, petite, middle aged blond English girl, and sent over to sit with two Russian men.  Both men were middle aged, and one was actually okay to look at, the other whom I sat with, not so great, and didn't know but a string of English words. I was convinced it wouldn't work, but the other girl showed me how easy it was, and we then had our first bottle of the cheapest pink champagne. The menu price was £280, although it was just fizzy wine, and probably cost them about £8 at the most. Immediately £50 was made for each of us, and then it was a matter of reaching the £500 mark to get commission thereafter, even though it would have to be split. I recall drinking the majority of what I had of the first bottle, as I knew I had a very high alcohol intake level, and it was much easier to get rid of it that way. The two men only drank their spirits, so we were doing all the work of getting rid of it. Shortly after, we had a second bottle, and then finally a third. 

Our conversation with the Russian gents was fun, even though it was minimal, it really is amazing how you can hold conversations regardless of a language barrier if you try to communicate. One of the little flirts we did with the men was unbutton a few of their top shirt buttons... and then run our fingers across their chest. I can recall my Russian male being plump, and maybe 35 years of age, whilst the other was slimmer and similar age. I had my legs crossed near him in a very tart like, with my dress hemline raised high, and I was actually wearing the same dress and heels every night since I started- as most girls did. I found him quite charming, and sweet, and the mysterious Russian appeal set in. I then let him run his hand, as shy as he was whilst doing it, across my chest. His watch got entangled in my fishnet tights, and caused a rip, but I didn't care, I soon learned it would be common practice for me to replace my short life hosiery on a regular basis.

As the two Russians left, I gave mine a nice hug, and actually was slightly sentimental, thinking I would more than likely never see him again. I was satisfied with my earnings, yet I was letting myself be quite bubbly, and full of life, as a result of me allowing the champagne's effect to be noticeable in me. I can quite easily hide the effects, even when I'm on the level of being ill, as I always can walk a straight line, and my speech is unaffected. Yet, on this instance, I was enjoying myself, and felt like I was in a nightclub! Oops.

I learned the next day not to do that again, as I had imagined the following day I would be told off for drinking. Indeed I was correct, and the Mediterranean receptionist scolded me and stated "first and last warning" with a nasty smile. He was also the only person running the place and serving the drinks, which gives an indication as to how small and not busy the place was on the whole. I can recall getting very upset after he said this to me, and almost cried. I was very quiet the duration of the evening. I just kept thinking to myself, I am so desperate for a job in this huge city, and someone like myself, who was not just some stupid uneducated girl,was being told off for simply drinking a bit, and I then realized how much of a little fish in a big sea I was, so to speak.