#angeloontherocks

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angeloontherocks

letskeepitugly and angeloontherocks of Number 12 Royal Street, better known as the Dirty Dozen, are looking for twelve fresh-faced, career-minded, disease-free young ladies for a new business venture.

  Sometimes girls just want to have fun, right? And who wants to be judged? Well, good news. You can have all the safe, responsible adult fun you want and get paid for it!  Our bouncers will provide protective services of all kinds while you meet your needs and the needs of our clients.

  Applicants must be 21 years old or older and willing to submit to health screenings and minor plastic surgery if need be. Must be a people person with a positive attitude, but no positive HIV test results.

  Send inquires to letskeepitugly. Serious applicants only.

  No Cops.  

They call New Orleans the Big Easy… and that is exactly what Vincenzo needed when he moved there a decade ago. The Big Apple was getting smaller all the time and easy sounded like the right change of pace. He had pictured opening up a small watering hole and serving the foodies and winos of the Quarter the finest spirits and mixed drinks that they’d ever had. He would hire staff and live luxuriously, coming in to manage and check in as needed. Leisurely. The Big Easy.

Well, big at least; big crowds, big personalities, big overhead, big bills. Katrina had ruined him, financially. The water damage had been extensive and the restoration hadn’t been covered by his cut rate insurance company so the repairs were costing him more than the purchase price for the bar and all the utilities for it and his apartment upstairs for years.

Tourism was picking back up, though. Number 12 was constantly filled past capacity and drinks flowed from the pourer to the glass to the wallet to the till…. all nice and neat. The problem was all the red in his ledger from rebuilding his business, his home.  

Sitting in the office of Number 12, Vincenzo poured over his books for the tenth time since last call. Something had to give, somewhere. But every time he did his expense reports, it came back the same. Even if business stayed steady and steadily good, his debt would overcome him. Sooner rather than later. The bar wouldn’t last another six months… maybe even less.

He put his pen down and chewed his lip. Running a hand through his hair and leaning back, he started to think of how he could earn the extra money or tell his staff he was closing up and heading back up north. As he ran through his options, the handle of his door turned. It could only be Angelo. Everyone else had the courtesy to knock or announce themselves.

Angelo had been tending bar at Number 12 so long that he was more like family than an employee. Vincenzo was going to have to tell him first; he needed to know. Maybe he would want to start looking for something else. Or maybe Angelo would have an idea. The younger man opened the door and sank into a chair across from the desk.  “Hey, Angelo. Glad you barged in,” he joked. “I needed to talk to you anyway.” Vinny scrubbed his face with his hands and took a breath.