Precious Australian Cargo

Below is an excerpt from my book — a mostly true story about my days as a strip club bartender in Austin, Texas where I mostly broke shit, drank a ton of booze, sometimes poured drinks, and always hit on my favorite manager.

Rather than pulling up to the curb like a jackalope to pick up my sister from the airport, I elected to park my car so that I could greet her inside.

I held up a sign that said ‘WELCOME HOME FROM PRISON FRANKIE!’ and decided the look would be complete with the purchase of a Hello Kitty balloon from a gift shop in the baggage claim area.

I was wearing a Hawaiin shirt and sweatpants with my hair in its usual unkempt mess, but it had been cleaned the night before.

My sister was about halfway down the escalator when she spotted me and began to dance.

And then she began to sing the song “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” which really looked quite regal as she slowly descended towards me.

A few people turned to look at her which just made her sing louder and dance more spastically.

I decided it was time I joined in and I began belting out the strange and high pitch noises. A lot of people were beginning to stare.

Once her escalator ride ended, she skedaddled over to me and we held hands jumping up and down.

“Hey, that was really great!” some random young guy in a cardigan said to my sister.

“We know,” Frankie answered.

“Are you an artist?” he asked her.

“Yes, she is. I’m her Assistant to the Executive Manager of Wardrobe,” I extended my hand for a shake. “I’m Pee Wee Herman, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Come on, that’s not really your name.” He nervously laughed.

“It’s true.” Frankie stepped in. “She’s named after our Uncle’s ficus plant.”

“You guys are sisters?”

“Yep,” we said in unison.

“What’s your name?” he turned to Frankie.

“Chief Squatting Duck.”

“Okay well you ladies have a nice day.” He offered a curt nod and darted off, probably trying to get as far away from us as possible.

My sister and I high-fived each other before going in for a big bear hug. It had been about a year since we had last seen each other.

“Welp,” I started before I could get too emotional. “What’s your bag look like?” I let go of our embrace and scanned the TV screens to figure out which conveyor belt would be carrying her luggage.

“I didn’t check a bag,” she said as she squeezed the straps on her backpack. “Just this bad boy.”

“You are staying for the whole Summer right?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yep!” She beamed.

“Well, alright let’s go. HAZAR!” I screamed and pumped my fist into the air before exiting the airport with my precious Australian cargo.

Even though I was playing sweet ass music, as we cruised along the highway my sister silently stared out the window as cars whizzed by looking all depressed and shit.

“You alright?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I’m just really gonna miss him this Summer.”

She was talking about Mohammed, her Australian boyfriend.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be perpetually drunk from working at the club that it’ll fly by. It’ll be like-” A car swerved in front of me, cutting me off.

At the same time that I shouted, “Fuck you, you fucking dickwad piece of shit!” my sister goes, “Cheese and rice, you lunatic!” and I feel like that really says a lot about who we are as people.

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