[C]HAPTER V.
THE PRETTY WAITER GIRL.
Concert Saloons and how they are Managed—How the Pretty Waitresses Live and upon Whom, and how the Unwary are Fleeced and Beguiled—A Midnight Visit to one of the Dives.
Readers of the works of Le Sage will recall the polite devil which the ingenious novelist releases from his captivity in a vial, for the purpose of disclosing to the world the true inwardness of society in Spain. Something of the role of this communicative imp we purpose to enact in this chapter, the subject matter of which, we may safely venture to assert, is new to at least nine-tenths of the residents of this great city. And if people, to the manner born, are unacquainted with the form and manifestations of this particular phase of crime, how much more ignorant must be those casual visitors, who only, at long intervals, are called by business, or impelled by anticipations of pleasure, to visit the Empire City?
The mode of life of the merchant or business man does not bring him in contact with crime or the haunts of criminals. He may pass down Sixth avenue, or Third avenue and the Bowery, on the Elevated railroad; or through Greene, Wooster, and Bleecker streets, the Bowery, Fourth avenue, Forsythe, Canal, Thirty-fourth, Houston, Twenty-third and Chatham streets, and other thoroughfares, in a street car, knowing nothing about the inmates of the houses lining either side of those same streets, or their manner of life, or anything about those inhabiting the basement beneath. It is only when the startling head-lines in his favorite morning paper call his attention to some frightful crime committed, that he learns either of its character, or location, or the causes which produced it. To this lack of knowledge on the part of the respectable portion of the community of the location of questionable places and the haunts of felons, is to be attributed many of the robberies which, from time to time, are chronicled in the newspapers. In the case of "the stranger within our gates" the danger of straying into the sloughs of vice and consequent victimization, is of course greatly increased. And just here it is worthy of remark that there appears to be some mysterious fatality by which strangers, greenhorns and "innocents," generally, contrive to wander by unerring though devious ways, straight into the talons of vigilant night-hawks.
Concert saloons and pretty waiter girls are treacherous things to meddle with. Neither can be depended upon and generally both have unsavory reputations. The only thing pretty about the girls is a pretty bad record.
During the war for the Union, when enlistments for the army were lively, and bounty jumpers flourished, and money was nearly as plentiful as salt, concert saloon proprietors made enormous fortunes. They were then a new sensation in this country; indeed, it may be said the war brought them into being. Broadway, from Fourteenth street to the Battery was literally lined on both sides with them, and when at night the lamps in front of these places were lighted, it rendered the street almost as bright as day. Then, as now, they were principally confined to the basements or cellars of buildings, but while some of them were known to be the rendezvous of thieves and other criminals, there were a few which enjoyed a better reputation, and were frequented by people of comparative respectability.
The pretty waiter girl, of course, was the principal magnet used to draw customers to these saloons. She was and is to-day, in fact, the only attraction. Music of a coarse description is used to attract the passer-by, who, glancing at the place from whence it proceeds, sees flaring lights, gaudy and brilliant signs—generally the figure of some female in tights—and is allured in by the unusual appearance, and the picture his imagination forms of a jolly time to be had within. Still, the girl is the feature. It is a safe conclusion, that no waiter girl in a concert saloon is virtuous, nor was there ever a really good girl engaged in any such saloon. They are there to be bought by any one fancying them, and therein lies the charm—if charm it can be called—of these places. A stranger has nothing to do but walk down the steps, enter the saloon, seat himself at a table, and he will immediately be besieged by a crowd of girls—if that be what he is seeking. As the stranger knows not the locality of other places of entertainment, he accommodates himself to circumstances and takes what he sees before him. Hence concert saloons thrive—but chiefly upon out-of-town people—countrymen, in fact.
There are various causes which conspire to make pretty waiter girls. They belong to three classes: First, the young girl who, but recently fallen into sin, is placed there by "her friend," which appellation more frequently than otherwise stands for "her seducer"; second, the young female who naturally seeks a position as waitress, because it pays her best, the proprietors of some saloons paying a weekly salary, in others a percentage upon the drinks sold; and third, an older kind of female who, having run the gauntlet of nearly all forms of feminine degradation, and losing most of the charms belonging to her sex, sees a chance, upon the percentages allowed by the "boss," and the overcharge squeezed from frequenters, of making a living, with a prospect of once in a while finding a man so drunk as not to have any choice in a companion for the night. To this sort of individual, all females are beautiful and the ancient and faded siren has as good a chance for patronage as her younger and more favored rival. Hence the concert saloon has its advantages for all kinds of women, as well as its uses for all kinds of men. The price of drinks in these places varies according to the tact of the pretty waiter girl, the sobriety of the customer, or the "rules of the house." In all cases, however, drinks are higher than at ordinary bars, for the musicians have to be paid, the girls to receive a percentage, as well as the proprietor to reap his harvest. Besides, the smiles of lovely women must be reckoned at something. In the Chatham street and Bowery dives, the worst and cheapest of liquors and beers are dispensed to customers. In many of these concert saloons "private rooms" have been arranged, where anyone so disposed may choose his female companion and retire to quaff a bottle of wine (?) at five dollars a bottle—a customer who indulges in such a luxury as wine being too important and consequential to associate with the common visitors. Money here as elsewhere has its worshipers.
With this preface we shall now introduce the reader to the inside of one of these concert saloons, and show him the pretty waiter girl as his fancy pictures her, and as she really is: Chancing to walk along the street, the ears are assailed by the clash of music emanating from some basement, down perhaps a half a dozen steps. A number of red globes, surrounding as many gas jets, serve to show the entrance, on either side of which are full length paintings of women in short skirts. The door is of green leather or oil-cloth. Pushing this open, we enter and seat ourselves at one of the many round tables with which the place is plentifully supplied. In a second—not longer—several girls are beside us, and some sit down at our table. One—perhaps two at once—will immediately ask if we are not going to treat, and, in response, drinks are ordered. While one of the girls proceeds to supply the order, and before the drinks are brought, we glance around the saloon. On one side is the bar, at which several persons are standing, drinking with some of the sweet-voiced houris. The barkeeper and proprietor, both in their shirt sleeves, are behind it. On one side of the bar is a slightly-raised platform, upon which is a piano-player, a violinist and a shrill fifer. This is the music that charms and attracts. Around the room are men of all kinds, sailors, laboring men, seedy individuals, lovers, thieves, a few poor gamblers, fellows in hard luck and waiting for "something to turn up." Sprinkled over the place, talking, laughing, joking and striving to induce them to buy drinks, are a number of the waiter girls. The floor is plentifully and generously covered with plain sawdust, which answers the double purpose of effectually hiding the large cracks, and of absorbing the expectorations and spilled beer. The time is yet early and business is not very brisk, so we chat with the prettiest and youngest of the girls for a second only, when we are again importuned to drink by another of the fair ones, even before the first round is brought, for it must be understood that only the girl ordering the drinks gets any percentage. The drinks brought, the price is asked and the amount paid, as follows: Two beers, two lemonades with a stick in it for two girls, and two brandies for two others; total, one dollar and forty cents. Now the girls don't drink brandy, they have a little colored water, but they charge for brandy all the same, and pay the proprietor in pasteboard tickets, which are supplied by him to the girls in packages of five dollars worth and upwards. For that which she charged one dollar and forty cents she pays in checks forty cents, thus making a clear one dollar—five cents each for two beers, ten cents each for lemonades, and five cents each for the colored water. The customer pays ten cents for each glass of beer, twenty cents each for lemonade and forty cents each for brandy. When the customer fails to call for drinks fast enough to suit the girls, they will leave for some other table where they may be more liberally patronized. It is getting later, and as we are about to leave, an unsteady and heavy foot is heard descending the steps outside, the doors are pushed violently open and a big, burly man reels into the place. He is not entirely intoxicated, but just enough so not to care for anything or anybody, and as he shuffles independently along he is approached by a couple of girls, who, taking an arm each, affectionately guide him to a chair. Being seated, he smiles benignly upon his fair captors and asks them to drink. He is evidently, from his dress, a successful butcher or saloon-keeper and has plenty of money about him. The drinks brought, he takes a roll of money from his pocket, and, thinking it is a five-dollar bill, gives a fifty-dollar bill to the girl. She immediately leaves and in a few seconds returns, giving him change for a five, saying quite pleasantly, "Here's your change," and, as he is about to place it in his pocket, asks him for "a quarter for luck." Several girls now gather around the man, and by smiles, caresses, and other affectionate and flattering demonstrations, finally persuade him into one of the private rooms, when he is lost to our sight, but we distinctly hear the order, "bottle of wine."