<strong>Tyson:</strong><br/><br/>"Mm, yeah, Lindsay said something was going on in there. Jasper and Dean have the keys, but Dean's up in Eugene, and I haven't seen Jasper." Sam waited until he had a moment to spare, then grabbed a radio clipped to his belt and spoke into it. "Yeah, one of the girls is freaking out or something. I dunno, it happens. Just a bad night for it, I guess." A little bit later, one of the other bouncers came outside.<br/><br/>"No private dances right now. Hurry up before one of the girls needs me back in there."<br/><br/>Sammy nodded to his coworker, then gestured for Tyson to follow him. As the two headed inside the building, Mike finally replied to Tyson. "just figure out what is going on. try and get her to stick around at least for tonight see if you can patch things up, whatever her probem is"<br/><br/>"Keep it, you work for Magic. Just don't go stabbing anybody." He led the way over to the door near the bar, marked with STAFF in blocky white letters, and disappeared inside. The place had a decent crowd for a Tuesday. It was never going to be<em>packed</em>on a Tuesday, but this was a decent showing. There was even a table with some women at it, which could be either great for one of the dancers, or just a complete black hole that she could pour effort into and get no tips out of.<br/><br/>At the bar, Lindsay slid a glass and a menu across the counter to a guy, who took off back for his group of friends and their table. Finished with her customer, she strolled over to Tyson and leaned up against the counter. "What're you doing here, Ty-dy? Anything to drink?" She gestured down her counter, first to the soda, then to the taps, which were currently covered with a hood, with a conspiratorial look.<br/><br/>After a minute, Sammy came back to collect Tyson. "It's all you now. She's, uh, a bit of a wreck." The dressing room was down the hall to the right behind the door, with its own small bathroom and showers. Just inside the door marked DANCERS - STAGE was a row of makeup tables and mirrors, a complete mess of chairs, racks, and discarded accessories, and a long bench running in front of a row of lockers. Seated on the bench were a pair of women, both still in their street clothes. One had clearly been crying recently, and her makeup was smeared all down her face. It looked like she had been covering up a pretty nasty bruise on the side of her face, before the effort had been ruined. The other had her arm over the first's shoulder, and looked up at Tyson with a slightly hostile expression.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Jessie:</strong><br/><br/>The girl up on the stage did her thing, the waitress came by to see if anybody had any requests, and Angie had a brief shouted conversation with her classmate, which ended with her sitting back and looking frustrated for a minute. She finally leaned forward to yell in Jessie's ear. "She says we 'have' to sit through at least one full dance, then we're 'good.'<br/><br/>From the other woman's behavior, it was pretty obvious that she'd had something to drink before she'd arrived, hooting and hollering along with the men in the club. It was also pretty clear, at least to Jessie, that she was a lot more invested in Angie not having fun than she was in having fun herself. A brief conversation between her and the waitress ended with the waitress apparently trying to flirt with Angie, which went nowhere at all, frustrating both of them. After a few more minutes of irritating behavior like this, she leaned forward. "Angie, you should totally get a lap dance," she said, with a nasty grin.<br/><br/>Before anybody could answer, Jessie felt a tap on her shoulder, and Liam, one of her coworkers at the deliver company, appeared beside the table. "Jessie? What in the world are you doing here?" He had a huge, amused smile on, and a small package in his hands. Jessie recognized the Priority Delivery stamp on the top as he shifted the slightly-squished box around. "Package fell off the line," he said, gesturing with the box. "But it was supposed to go out today, so they pushed me out with it. Hey, DeSouza hit a moose out in Grant's! You're not the last to smash up a van anymore!"