Midnight Train (Wreck) with Gladys

Edited to add: Pictures associated with stories didn't show up. Sorry. I must be doing something wrong.




Midnight Train (Wreck) With Gladys



I want to tell you about the train wreck I walked into at work last night but in order for it to make sense I have to share with you the many PAST train wrecks which led up to this lethal crash so this will be rather long. I'll separate each wreck by chapters so if you already know about them you can skip to the next chapter, ok?

Brief synopsis: I work as a cocktail server in the Gladys Knight showroom in the Flamingo casino, which was recently purchased by Harrah's. I've been there 3 years after spending the majority of my life working 70+ hour weeks in hospitality management and owning a small piano bar in Key West, Florida. I THOUGHT this would be a nice stress free environment to ease into retirement. HA!


Chapter one, Wreck one.
Harrah's takes over our world 6 months ago.

The 10 of us girls walk into the showroom and begin to set up for the evening as normal when some red headed woman we've never seen before tells us to stop and listen. Apparently she's our new boss so we do. The conversation goes something like this:
" Ok ladies, listen up. There are some new rules that are to be followed starting immediately. If you DON'T follow them starting immediately you will be FIRED immediately. Starting tonight the prices have all changed. You must ring in the correct price or you will be fired. You must serve everyone in 5 minutes or you will be fired. You must place each of these menus I just made (the ink was still fresh) on each table or you will be fired. You are no longer allowed to serve free ice water. It is $5 per bottle. If you SERVE free ice water you will be fired. You must not have any customer complaints or you will be fired. You must not make Gladys mad or you will be fired. You must not be confused or you will be fired. You must kiss my ass or you will be fired. You must enjoy this hellhole you’ve chosen as your work environment or you will be fired..... Now have a good night."

So now the house doors open, we're barely set up and have no idea what just happened when Scott, the stage manager emerges from backstage with HIS new set of rules.

He says, " Look. Gladys is tired of you guys serving drinks when she's trying to be "intimate" with the audience so here's a list of songs where you shouldn't be serving. If you're out there and the song starts simply stop what you're doing and walk away."

OK. Gladys sings about 15 numbers in 1 1/2 hours. Well, that's what she's SUPPOSED to do however sometimes she starts 20 minutes late AND ends 20 minutes early. Her list of "no-serve" songs includes 11.

Now I don't think I have to tell you the pandemonium in the place that night nor how idiotic we looked running out there with a tray of drinks, in TOTAL DARKNESS mind you, about ready to hand one to a customer, look up to see the Diva begin a new "no-serve" song, and fly away- leaving a dumbfounded and confused customer looking like, "What the hell just happened?"

Then in a few minutes we re-appear and in rapid, robot fashion shoot out,
"Hereyougosir,oneginandtonic,thatwillbe$7.50please, outof$20,thankyou,
yourchangeis$12.50,haveagoodnight.Hereyougomamm,oneGreyGoosecranberry,
thatwillbe$7.50,outof$10......"

EEEEKKKK!!!!! She's started a new "no -serve song" so off you fly leaving the lady to wonder what just happened again.

I swear to God I think those people are more stressed out when they leave that place than when they entered. Not to mention the stress we're under anymore. Not a night goes by that one of us doesn't burst into tears under the pressure.

Anyway, by some miracle that I STILL don't understand none of us were fired that night. And as the weeks went on I began perfecting a snakelike crawl that could easily become a Vegas show on it's own.

I have mastered crawling on all fours weaving underneath tables carrying two glasses at a time while my “bank” of dollar bills is stored in my bra, which I then pull out to make change for the customer. I got the idea from some old Mae West film. I can't be seen by Gladys or management. This way I keep the customers happy, the drinks flowing and actually my tips have increased because I think people realize the humiliation I put myself through to get them their drinks.






Am I missing something? Why in the world wouldn’t WE be anywhere on this list?
LAUGHLIN got 57 awards (whatever that means) and we got zero? That just ain’t right.


$5 Bottle of water next to a 75 cent can of soda. They each contain 12 ounces.



Chapter two, Wreck two.
The Neon Cocktail Sign.

I was having an "off" night. My nocturnal skills were spectacular as ever but my reptilian skills weren't up to par. I was out on the floor and about to serve a customer when, dear GOD! Gladys started singing a song that she'd never sung before! I looked up and saw that she'd sat down on a chair close to the audience and started singing Barbra Streisand's "Memories". What the hell?????

I stopped mid-motion. Now I'm no rocket scientist but I imagine this would be considered an intimate song, right? I slowly backed away, trying to remain unseen. This is impossible because Gladys is like one of those Raptors in Jurassic Park. She sees EVERYTHING that moves. I carefully back up next to the wall. I am as perfectly motionless as is humanly possible. I am barely breathing. My eyes are shut and I'm praying to God. Everything is perfect. Too perfect. It can't possibly last.

Suddenly the room lights up. WTH? Where is it coming from? WHY is it happening? Is this part of her new number as well???

People start looking over at me. I feel like the Von Trapp family singers when that searchlight hits them in "Sound of Music". Then Gladys looks over! I am about to faint with fear so I fling the door open and flee for my very life.

Apparently there's a light switch on the wall that hasn't been used in YEARS. When flipped on it lights up a very gaudy neon sign that says "COCKTAILS!", which is ironic considering how many people want one at this point and have given up on ever getting one.















There are several scary things to observe in this photo of the infamous neon cocktail sign.
First, it isn’t even turned ON in this picture! Can you imagine what it’s like lit UP?
The stage begins directly left of this photo and Gladys was sitting about 25 feet away from me when I slowly moved away from the stage and backed up against that little white switch to the right of the door. This sent the cocktail sign into a hissing, flickering fit as it rose from the dead. Although the door is marked “No Exit” it was my only way out. Also note the ugly souvenir glasses lined along the top of the sign. This will make the nightmare of the next chapter even more meaningful when you understand how many people would ask me to crawl up on top of that sign and get them a “green” glass.

Chapter three, Wreck three.
The Fucking Gladys Souvenir Glasses.

Picture the most hideous, ugly, cheap-ass hurricane glass you can imagine.
Ours are 10 times tackier. They are fluorescent pink, green, yellow and orange and each one says "Gladys Knight" on them.

They are made of glass and are heavy and EVERY FUCKING PERSON who comes to the show wants one. They're quite a bargain. For only $12.50 you get 16 ounces of watered down daiquiri with whipped cream melting down the sides. I imagine this being a Saturday you can go to any garage sale in America and pick one up for 5 cents. Either that or go to any airport across America and rummage through the trash. Some worn out tourist is sure to have tired of lugging the damned thing home by now.

First, I have to tell you that my most shining moment at the Flamingo at this point was when I finally persuaded management to change the price from $12.95 to ANYTHING that didn‘t end in a nickel.

I want you to picture yourself in a pitch dark showroom balancing a 30 pound tray of these God-awful things while having to reach into your change cup to figure out whether you're holding a nickel or a quarter to give back as change to the customer. Does the coin have a ridge around the edges or is it smooth? God forbid if it’s foreign. If so just throw in the towel right now and write the whole night off.
People are screaming at you to get out of the way, Gladys is glaring at you, and NO-ONE ever said, "Just keep the damned nickel and get out of here!" It was always a nightmare; not that it's much better now with the damned quarters.

So we girls thought we were clever when we all made a pact to just start telling customers "Sorry, we're out of those."

Well, it was only a matter of time before management was onto us and sure enough. Here comes a picture of those hideous glasses advertised on the table menus so there's no getting around it any more.

On a typical night we seat over 600 people for the show. The doors open 1 hour prior to curtain but everyone arrives about 15 minutes before the show starts. And each person wants an immediate drink. I swear to God half these people should be in AA rather than attending the show. I keep thinking I'm going to start carrying those plastic flasks you can get in the tacky souvenir shops and fill them with Everclear or something to toss to people so desperate for a drink. The rate it's going I'm going to be one of those people soon.

Anyway, it's not bad enough that they've got this ugly glass on their minds but NOW they start wanting the green one, or the orange one- NOT the pink one.
THAT was a big enough nightmare when all we had left were yellow ones but THEN, just when you think it couldn't get any worse, it did.
The Gladys Knight glasses ran OUT! We all come to work one night and there are about 15 of these glasses left, which went out entirely with the first girls initial order. We rip open more cases to find the same ugly glasses only THIS time they say Flamingo on them instead of Gladys Knight. Well, you'd think the world had ended.

"Wait! This doesn't say Gladys!" "Where's Gladys???? Oh My GOD!!!!! THIS DOESN'T SAY GLADYS FRICKIN’ KNIGHT ON IT!!!!!!"

We call management and they say, who cares? Just serve the damned Flamingo glasses. We try to convince them it's not working and they say, who cares? That's all we have. Then we ask if we can at LEAST take the menus off the table (false advertising and all that) and they say, “NO! You'll be fired!”

So what I started doing is to time it juussssttt right when it's really dark and my nocturnal skills are at their height of the evening, snake out into the dark, drop them off quickly with the Flamingo word facing AWAY from the customer, run away and never go back.
Two weeks ago an angry mob forced their way into the sanctuary of our service area and began yelling at us. Management again refused to answer our pleas for help.
And all of this over a tacky 17 cent ugly piece of glass that peels apart when you put it in the dishwasher.




The Exquisite and Increasingly rare official Gladys Knight Souvenir Glass atop a well worn bench in the ladies locker room.



A “full” rack of these ugly-ass glasses. Notice how there are only about 61 to serve an audience of 600. The orange ones say Flamingo instead of “Gladys Knight”, which will only complicate things further. After realizing this was all we had in stock I ran upstairs to the employee medicine vending machine and purchased an extra-strength Excedrin.
The bits of paper you see to the left are where I urgently ripped the aspirin from it’s resilient packaging in anticipation of another throbbing headache about to kick in. It didn’t help. I think my body has built up resistance to Excedrin.





The results of these ugly-ass glasses after a trip through the dishwasher.
Much like a one night stand you live to regret, not so pretty the morning after, huh?