Nicole Lauren

Usually I’m full of Christmas spirit. This year it’s more like can’t wait to be drunk and fall into someone’s tree.

I did a bunch of online shopping this year to avoid people and being drunk in public. There’s no way I could shop the crowds sober. Can you ? You’re my hero if so.

Unfortunately, I had to do a return at Vickie’s . This is where the regrets start sinking in.

In typical holiday shopping fashion, I drove around for a good 15 minutes to find parking. No body wants to park in carajo land . I made my way into the mall and mumbled a little prayer.

Dear God,

Please make this quick and painless like that one night … wait I’m getting distracted. Anyway lord please keep all assholes away and give me strength to not go Jersey on anyone.

Amen.

Waking into the mall, there goes that Salvation Army bell just jingling away. The sound of guilt from pretending to be on the phone while avoiding judgement. I bet all the money goes to some big rich fat guy sitting on a Yacht somewhere anyway. An even better chance it goes to the bell ringer so they can grab a 40 later.

Either way I’m a piece of shit.

I make my way to Victoria Secret and here’s this teenager to assist me. I ask her to help me find this hoodie I ordered online in an xl. She stops me and explains that they don’t carry xl’s in the store, online only. Um, excuse me, so only size negative twos can shop here ? Strike one. I’m stuck with this hoodie.

No worries. I tell her I can figure it out after Christmas, but may I have some boxes for all the other shit I ordered? Yes of course…. she hands me three 2×0 boxes. Common sense is not a job requirement clearly. I can’t even fit my big toe in this box hun, how can I fit hoodies in them ? I storm off and I hear the little bitch yell MERRY CHRISTMAS. Lol.

my response : keep your boxes ya filthy animal.

This is when I drop everything I’m doing and chug Tito’s in the parking lot as I walk ten blocks to my car. Jk. But it sounds good.

With two days left I hope you get your shit done, wrap a ton of gifts just to be torn open in seconds, bake all your cookies, don’t forget to move the elf, and have plenty of alcohol in the process.

Cheers xo

Well, well, what do we have here ? The biggest party night next to NYE. You don’t say? …. A night where you might bump into your high school sweetheart or you arch enemy. In my case all my little sisters friends who are wondering why the hell I’m even out. Jk. I’m still legit. I’m still young enough to get white girl wasted tonight!

I’m actually going to sling drinks for a few hours and be adultish before I go spend my hard earned money on Jameson. That’s fifty percent responsible.

Thanks giving Eve’s use to be spent drinking a handle of captain at someone’s house then rallying to this place called Zoom. Down beaches finest under one roof. With my fake id (thanks Jules) and dressed in my hot pink Steve Madden boots, I was lit. If you weren’t carried out of that place you were doing it wrong. Luckily there wasn’t any social media to ruin our lives because lord knows we would all be in trouble. Great times.

You remember that one time you were so disgustedly wasted? That drink you consumed 15 of ? The smell of it anytime there after ? That’s Captain Morgan for me. I’m gagging just typing this. RIP Morgan. I had to leave you back in 2003. Along with this photo …

Can’t wait to see everyone out tonight at the casino drinking their holiday stress away and telling me how much they hate their Mother in law. Should be worlds of fun. As long as their tipping. Sometimes holiday clientele can be cheap. Pray for me!

Everyone be safe tonight. Take an Uber if need be … Uber we could of used you back then glad you’re here now though!

God bless & may the turkey not be the only thing getting stuffed this holiday season 😉 !!!

Disclosure : I do not promote drunk texting …

Happy Thanksgiving 🦃

Cheers xo

I need to vent about this new age dating system we have going on here. I’m very open-minded and I believe everyone deserves to find love, feel attractive, have fun and the obvious, have sex. So if all that can be accomplished in the palm of your hand than wow ! Fuckn wow! We are lazy sumbitches. Simply swipe right if you like swipe left if not . I can go on and on about how amazing technology is or how horrible I️t is; but all I really want to do is be a damn fly on the wall when these guys are making their profile. In this case a bee. Get it a bee? Bumble.

This is better then Eddie Murphy Delirious. Grab the popcorn because I’m about to spill the tea.

Let me start by explaining that  borrowing someone else’s kid for your profile pics is NOT attractive. It’s border line creepy. It’s confirmation that it’s creepy when you have to state “Not my kid just my cool nephew.” “No kids just my cousins brothers daughter.”

Like whaaaaat? Kids are cute but I’m not swiping right because you’re using a cute child to get a match. Show us your sweet and sensitive on the first date. I mean are most women this gullable?

Which brings me to puppies. Unless you’re looking for the animal whisperer please chill with the fur babies.

Here’s my fav ! Do NOT I repeat do NOT post pictures with you and your 10 guy friends. I️ mean can you raise your hand so we know it’s you? Now, unless you’re going to link their bumble with yours (cause bitches like options) just don’t do it. There’s a high chance I’ll think your friends cuter. Why risk a match? Is there a bumble bro code ?

My second fav is the old girlfriend photos. Dude crop your ex ALL the way out please. So sloppy. This leads me to believe you half ass everything in life and it’s probably why she left you. Sorry not sorry.

So fellas: only post your own children, limit to one dog or cat photo, no half of your ex photos, or all your frat brothers, just pics of yourself. Preferably the famous gym photos. Sike. That’s lame too. We all know you binge drink all weekend and love tacos. You ain’t that healthy bro.

The bios are entertaining too. Everyone fits into a category. The shy guy, the intellectual type, the hipster, the man of few words and then the overly confident guy. “You would be crazy not to swipe right.” LmAo! Oh yeh ? You heard Beyonce,  to the left to the left pal.

I can’t lie though there are definitely some cool genuine people on these sites. It’s just really comical to weed through them.

I’m positive I️t works both ways and you guys have your share of what you think is corny. Like the snap filters. Yes, we don’t really look like that in person so your taking a risk. But hey that’s the chance we take trying to meet people from our iPhone. I’m sorry if you have an Android, instant unmatch. Do you hate me ?

Whether you’re on Bumble, Tinder, Hinge, Coffee Meets Bagel etc.,  I hope you find love or a few fun connections while learning how to perfect your Blue Steel and Magnum selfie. The people love it.

Heres’s mine …..

Subscribe & share some of your stories & experiences from online dating. What annoys you? What do you like about it ?  I’d love to hear!

Happy swiping!

XO

Welp, here we are folks. How the hell is it Labor Day weekend ? Anyone? It’s already I have no idea how to dress weather! Today even smelled like school. Ew! September 1st I really don’t like you. I mean I love fall but can we not talk about it or do anything pumpkin flavored until September 22nd? Thanks!
Wake up freezing and by lunch your in a bikini. Well at least I am. My beach chair stays in my trunk 365 days a year. Living in South Jersey you just never know!

Back to the last hurrah.

I always hope all my industry friends make a million dollars over holiday weekends. But the reality is more and more people stay outside. They have to get in those last bbqs and shit.

Luck is on our side this weekend though. South Jersery forecast is nothing but rain!

Fast forward, since it’s now Sunday ! Friday night sucked slinging drunks drinks. (Say that five times fast.) Which is fine it’s predictable, like I said holiday weekends tend to be overrated.

Since it poured all day Saturday it was busy.   No bbqs. Sorry folks bring all your money to me.

​
We broke up with Friday night and Saturday night was  a great rebound. So drinks on me tonight ! Yes, me and my girls are ending summer right, at least I hope so. I’m mentally preparing myself to be hungover at least until Wednesday. FML. Carnage  , then after hours, then being  drunk savages stuffing our face at some glorious local spot… omg the duck buster… thinking of you already bae.

(inner voice: gurrrrl you’re not 21 but ok)

Cheers to the workers !! Happy Labor Day xo

To be continued …

slot girl– slang for cocktail server with not enough senority to work in table games.
i e . peasant.

We sling drinks for players on penny slots all the way up to 100 dollars a spin. It’s not rocket science that we can also get tipped like peasants begging for crumbs of bread.

I was given an opportunity a few weeks ago to work in the lounge. You know, where I wore the sexy dress and a customer complained that my ass was too big for it? Not your momma’s dress!  

Well, I decided to work in there again for the simple fact I can serve table games, regardless of my senority number in slots. (Oh and not to brag but I lost 20 pounds.) So I was hoping to run into that lady and show her my new skinny ass. Well ….

Serving table games is the holy grail up in the casino world . You can get tipped 5 dollars for smiling or a 20 for a coffee. Not all the time! So don’t quit your day job, but it seriously is good money. I also wait on tables in the lounge with people who actually have to pay to drink. This also means you need a personality to work in this environment. It’s not like the casino floor when you can drop a drink and go. The paying customers want convo, attention,  and long walks on the beach. Remember, there’s no slot machine or card game hypnotizing them. They will notice if you’re hungover, heart broken, or naturally miserable. They actually look at you when you take their drink order. Which is nice for a change.

There’s a band five nights a week and it can get pretty rowdy on the weekends. Packed with fancy people rocking out to cover bands playing Bruno Mars. Pretty entertaining when I have time to people watch. A pain in the ass to clean glassware through the crowd though.

In the middle of a packed Saturday night, there I was knee deep in empty glasses and beer bottles, when this young 20 something steps in the center of my pinky toe! Wearing the skinniest stiletto heels in all the land. Yep, those red bottoms not only break the bank they break toes. I shed a tear. “I’m so sorry she says, ” but all I  heard was Cardi b ‘s voice, “These expensive, these is red bottoms , these is bloody shoes.”

 

 

I could barley reply. There has to be blood. My toe is definitely bleeding. That’s it! Send me back with the peasants where I belong. There’s no red bottom bullies there. I limped over to the service bar for moral support. With my pinky toe throbbing all I thought about was how my $50 cocktail shoes just got mangled by her $1200 stiletto. My poor peasant of a shoe.

It’s safe to say my toe lived, thank you  Jesus, and I am back to my roots four weeks later….

Saving the world one cocktail at a time, in slots.
Cheers xo

I’m pretty sure no little girl grows up with dreams of being a cocktail server. I know that I didn’t.  I actually wanted to be on tv. I’ll probably be throwing my age out there with this one. I wanted to be on the show Blossom. I was in love with Joey Lawrence! For fun my cousins and I  use to make home made commercials with cam corders, before iPhones and shit. I remember taking the cam corder to Wild Wood boardwalk and taping ourself on the rides. We even interviewed people walking by. Dammit we could of been the first reality show. Dropped that ball. I remember learning movie lines and acting out scenes all the time. 

So here I am, a cocktail server. After high school , some college and then beauty school.  I can’t get out of this industry. You know why? Because I don’t want too. I love it. I love the cash,  I love my co workers, who are some of my closest friends. 

Some nights suck more then others but isn’t that any job? 

Literally standing around on Tuesday night before summer hits is torture! I can think of a thousand other things to do besides stand here at the bar. I have to literally tell people they need a drink just to make a few dollars.
Me- Beverages?

Them- No I’m good hun.

Me – no your not you need another rum and coke.

Them- you know  what you’re right. I’ll take another.

See, in real life and in this biz,  people don’t know what they want. You have to tell them. 99 % of the time we are right. 

The wackos keep me entertained, the cheap people humble me , and the good tippers pay the bills. 

Where else can you work and make hundreds of dollars in tips from someone  who tells you there dying and that their leaving for Vegas to spend the rest of their money? All while keeping your clothes on ? No where. It’s a good gig, this cocktailing thing. 

Disclaimer : this is no way shape or form written to deter anyone from college or a “real career ” – lmao 

Cheers xo

I’ve been slacking on my macking. Aka I haven’t blogged in forever it feels like. I need to write about last weekend before I forget.

In my lovely work establishment, I am cross trained to work on the casino floor as well as inside a lounge where people pay for drinks. In the lounge there are also table games that I serve. Wooo hoooo !

So, last Friday & Saturday night I worked in the lounge. My uniform in there is super skimpy and you can’t even wear a bra. It’s suppose to be sexier I guess because we are  in a lounge ? I have no idea but it’s far from your momma’s dress. Compared to my casino floor dress it’s literally nothing. I’m not the skinniest girl on the planet (I love tacos)  Some of my curves and flub may or may not be accentuated….

I’ve been working in the same dress for 3 years. Never had a problem until my beverage supervisor pulls me aside during my shift. He tells me he had a customer complaint and I need a new uniform. I laughed thinking it was a joke. Wrong. I begged him to tell me who said something and all I got was that a women, shocker, said my dress was inappropriate. She also asked what kind of establishment we are running here. Seriously ? I’m sorry ma’am we’re running a whore house in here. I guess she didn’t get the memo.

At the time I was mortified and very uncomfortable. I even threw out my cookies from a bartender’s birthday extravaganza.

Thinking  back on it, I’m like really lady? You’re  in a building full of sin. Gambling, alcohol, probably even drugs all around us and you’re worried about my dress? Mind you, I wear full coverage black shorts underneath. I’m not an idiot I know the dress is smaller on me. I apologize that my ass is too big for it. Luckily, I give you and everyone else the courtesy of covering it up with shorts. The real uniform calls for bikini briefs under it and I would never wear them, considering it’s more like a thong. So yes lady,  casinos and lounges are not for your momma’s dress. We are sexy and we are here to look good. I hate to break it to you but,  your husband is the one probably spending money and I think he likes the uniforms. Maybe that’s why you had to make the call!

(Laura and I in our slutty dresses. EYE ROLL!)

 

So instead of putting the fork down and purging after my meals, I’ve decided I look good and I don’t give a beep about what anyone says. To my readers you shouldn’t either !!! Love yourself !!!  You’re awesome!

Happy  Saturday ! Side note:  It feels like Summer out right now on my side of the world !

CHEERS

Xo

I’m the queen of early outs. It’s funny though, I never make it home early. I’m easily persuaded to grab drink and stuff my face. Friday night we went to Tony’s because their pizza is crack and we love the old lady waitresses. 

“Whatta ya having hun?”

That night was different though. The bar side was rowdy and I needed intimacy with my girl Bkels. We had to catch up on the life we lead outside of cocktailing. So we sat in the dinning room, if that’s what you call it. 

Our waitress wasn’t our fav, in fact I never had her before. As soon as she took our order the first lunatic of the night sat behind us. Hysterically crying, he threw himself into the booth and just sobbed like a baby. Clearly intoxicated and probably on bath salts. We contemplated moving but didn’t want to make a scene. Plus I needed material for this blog. He began talking to himself. 
My scenario; he drank his soul away at beer fest because he found out his wife was pregnant with his brothers baby. We never got the story because the bath salts kicked in and he threw his glass of water at the table and it shattered everywhere and got my friends jacket soaked. 
We moved and the cooks came running out to remove his ass. I thought to myself why did the waitress give him a glass in the first place ? We had plastic, much safer. She was also trying to play doctor Phil and ask him what was wrong. Lady you can’t save him can you check on our pizza?

 On the way out he tried to pick up a huge table, with his scrawny self , and failed. His face smashed into door frame as he yelled about who knows what. 

After things calmed down the waitress was ranting about how shitty her night was. She wouldn’t shut up. I think she had bath salts too. She was babbling on about nothing and apologizing 40 times about the drunk guy. Was she looking for sympathy ? A better tip? 

You know what’s funny?

We avoided the bar side because it was rowdy,  missed out on sitting with our favorite no frills server, had a waitress on meth and a glass of water thrown at my friend. But did I say the pizza was the bomb? The best ever? Locally famous ?

Ok good.

Cheers xo

Sometimes on Saturday nights we go out after work. It’s only right that we recycle our tips into the hands of the bartenders over pouring our drinks. I still havent decided if this is a good or bad thing. I guess it’s good while it’s happening and bad when it takes me three days to get my life together from the hangover. Today is day two so I decided to write about it. I was pretty white girl wasted. Hence, the next few paragraphs about me talking to myself.

Going to the bathroom intoxicated is pretty amusing if you’re not on your knees puking. Saturday night I had a few conversations with myself. First off I was excited to see the bathroom attendant. I was in desperate need of gum. She’s definitely getting a tip if she has gum.

It was my luck she was on break. So no gum. Dammit. This kind of set the tone for the controversies that were about to take place in my head. I get into the stall,  hang my purse, then I try to strategically place my drink in the least most disgusting spot. The best I could do was the floor. Gross. Then I began  fighting with myself. Are you going to squat or are you going to sit? Do you feel like putting toilet paper down or do you want to risk your chances of getting a STD? I decided I was too drunk to execute a squat and way to classy to sit on the bare toilet. So I gathered up toilet paper and lined her up.

Of course the DJ wants to play Drake’s new song as I’m peeing. Why?! Doesn’t he know I need to snap chat myself around the club while singing Passionfruit! I go to wash my hands and its like Mac Gyver trying to work the soap dispenser. Push or pull with the hand soap? Oh wait is it censored? Make it simple pahleeez.

Typically I love making friends with drunk girls in the bathroom. They are so fun. No time to waste though. Sorry Becky I can’t listen to how you lost your lip gloss and you can’t find Bobby. Not today.

I’m not sure  if I made it out to snap myself while lip singing to Drake but I do remember staring at the floor. I was staring down at dollar bills. Someone “Made it rain.”(eye roll)  Do you know what that dollar bill signifies to me?  The struggle.

 

I couldn’t help but recap my night. The 4 for a DOLLAR special in my station was a big hit. Yes, when they  order 4 drinks and tip a dollar. Do not be “them”.  So, as I’m looking at this money on the floor  I’m torn over picking it up or not. I mean do I want to look like a rachet?  Nah, I guess not. Back to the bar.

My night was just getting started.  Everyone else’s night was winding down at about 3:30am. So the club started to close. There’s a blanket of shame covering everyone who is still at the club when the lights come on. (I’m the exception people I just got here) It’s like we all melt as soon as light hits us. You feel like a baby bird opening your eyes for the first time. It sucks. It sucks for all the dudes who thought they were leaving with someone and now its just them and the 10 dudes they came in with. It sucks for the girls whose face beat is now literally beat. So we left and  I ended up at ONE OAK. Sike. We went to an after hours spot.

I was not aware of my level of drunkenness. Until I needed my sweater out of the trunk. Somewhere in between intoxicated and intoxicated I tripped and banged into my car while it was open though. What my friends tell me is that I fell into my trunk. The only reason I believe them is because my elbow was bleeding and it is bruised today. Terrible. (FYI I did not drive.)

I also apparently got kicked in the shin, earlier in the night, by a guy wearing the pointiest shoes ever.

 

 

In his defense the place was packed with R3hab fans. 

 

 

The guy apologized I was told. I supposedly stopped my bouncer, aka my better half,  from ripping his throat out. I’m proud to say with all the battle wounds I didn’t puke and isn’t that everyone’s goal? It was a fun time that I’m paying for now. I should be feeling better by Wednesday night.
Cheers xo

Going to the bank  has to be one of the most awkward moments for a cocktail server. At least for me it is. I imagine the thoughts going on in the tellers head go something like this : Wow she did good last night. I wonder what her stage name is ? I wonder if you get free champagne? You think she wears those clear heels?

I like to give myself pep talks. Girl, don’t be embarrassed. If you were a stripper you would make way more than this. Sometimes my pep talks suck.

As I stuff my million one dollar bills in the money container I wonder how much I would make as a … no-no stop it. What is that time capsule looking thing called ? Anyway I use to be flustered when counting and sorting my ones in the drive thru. But now it’s fun for me to let them wonder what I do.

At the grocery store I always give the cashier a heads up. Hi, I heard you ran out of ones. So here ya go… paying my $200 dollar grocery bill in ones for ya. It’s a love hate relationship. Oh, and it pisses the people off behind me. They get so agitated when they have to wait for me to count my ones. I can  totally feel them stare me down too. I know what you where doing  last night hunny, sliding down poles, now hurry up and pay! Totally what that Mom of four was thinking.

You would think I would just deposit my money and use my debit card. But no, I’m like a 90-year-old women. I stash my money in coffee cans all around the house.

We use to be able to cash in our tips for bigger bills with the cashier at work . I’m still not sure why we’re not allowed anymore. So now we have to pay and play with a shit ton of ones, fives, and tens . Unless your normal and just use your debit card.

I like being somewhat of a mystery customer. I deal with them all night and making up scenarios about their life is what gets me through my shift.
I might be a dancer I might not they’ll  never know.

Cheers xo