Our nightlife correspondent works in finance during the week, but on the weekends she’s a VIP Hostess at one of Canada’s most famous clubs. Naturally, she has some pretty crazy stories. Here’s what happened this week.
Hiring attractive girls to create a happening party at a club is in no way a new idea. However, most club-goers seem oblivious to the fact that some of the people around them, who appear to be having the time of their lives, are actually cashing in.
These “paid to party girls” make a cool $150 for 4 hours of “work,” a.k.a partying. Their duties include drinking, looking good, drinking more, working the room, dancing a bit, flirting, looking good, and oh—did I mention drinking? Some people hear this job description, and instantly think of escorts or strippers. Any job where you’re trading on your looks and charisma is bound to invite controversy of this kind (except modelling, for some reason). Life is literally a party for these women and they seem to love it. While others might morally object to the idea of this job description, casually sipping champagne in the VIP section appears to be just another day at the office for the woman who do it, and they are masters in the art of small talk and striking up a conversation with strangers. They also possess an extremely high level of tolerance to douchebaggery.
I had always been rather baffled by the idea myself. I mean, it’s not like these girls are Paris Hilton, so I never really understood the point of having them around. Not to mention that there’s 10 to 15 of them working on any given night, which could cost the club upwards of $2000. But I’ve now made them my allies. When I have an all-guys booth, these girls drink so much booze, and I keep poppin’ bottles. Guys don’t spend unless there are girls around. Bring a couple-a-hot-chicks into the mix and champagne starts flowing like a waterfall.
Recently, I invited a group of my guy friends who are from out of town to come in and party. They arrived at the venue at 10:30 pm and the club was just starting to fill up. As they were crowding around their bottles and sipping their first drinks, one of my friends saw a striking woman walk by. They caught each other’s eye, and she and her girlfriend made their way over to the table and casually struck up a conversation. Then, my friend turns to me. “Wherever I go, women just follow me. I can’t help it, really. I was born this way,” he said, bragging to me with a coy smile on his face. “Miami, Toronto, Montreal, Vancouver, and New York – it’s all the same.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and glare at him with a really unimpressed look on my face. I wanted to instantly blurt out “SHE’S PAID TO BE HERE, YOU FOOL!” But instead, I took a step back and gained a newfound appreciation for what management had in mind when they decided to hire these women. These girls were undoubtedly creating atmosphere. Whether or not it’s an honest atmosphere is beside the point—it was there, and people were enjoying themselves more because of it. For those few minutes, my friend felt like a million bucks. I wasn’t about to take that away from him.
Although I should have perhaps told my friend the reality about his club crush, the truth hurts. I remind myself that club life isn’t real life, and as long as people are having a good time and nobody gets hurt, isn’t it all in good fun and likely forgotten the next day, anyway?