Another Friday night standing on a bar with drunk dudes hollering. Only this time I was sober(ish) and my cleavage was being ogled in the name of charity. Or more appropriately, they were checking out my hooters for Haiti.
The folks at Hennessey's Tavern asked a few Weekly staffers to donate time behind the bar to raise money for disaster relief on January 29. While I’m a pro when it comes to mixing vodka with either soda, cranberry or orange juice at nightclub tables, actual mixology skills are not on my resume. Hennessey’s provided two bottles of pre-mixed Alabama Slammers and Lemon Drops, and of course, I can open a beer bottle. However, a tip here and there was doing little to fill our donation bucket, but when a megaphone appeared, it was game on.
I climbed atop the bar and began the begging for cash, telling patrons I’d only quit annoying them if donations were made. Weekly publisher Bruce Spotleson chipped in while contributor John Katsilometes tended bar (and later got a surprise derrière paddling from Hennessey’s bartender Shiloh). The ultimate sacrifice of pride in the name of raking in the dollar donations goes to Weekly account executive Guy Bertuzzi. While I will neither confirm nor deny that I let a few guys stare at the Weekly logo on my shirt for longer than socially acceptable when they agreed to donate ten bucks, Guy showed the most skin of all in an itty bitty Pretty Kitty tanktop. (FYI: Guy is not quite itty bitty). The band playing on Friday night is probably still pissed at me for yelling over their music, but our combined group effort raised over $200 in about an hour for Red Cross and Child Hope and got supporters sufficiently snockered at the same time.