E-Mail This Article to a Friend Cinderella story, continued

MOVING ON

From then on, I become Wong’s responsibility. His official title is general manager, but the 37-year-old South Boston resident is also facility manager, tough-guy bouncer, talent agent, security-camera incarnate, and one-man human-resources department. He hires the dancers, holding auditions everyday from 3 to 6 pm, and oversees them once they’re on the schedule.

"I’m their father, confessor, their shrink, their older brother, and sometimes a combination of all of them," he says, counting off his therapeutic roles on one hand. He’s also a kind of administrative chaperone who monitors the dancers closely to make sure they’re not hooking up with the customers — given the city’s historical scrutiny, he doesn’t want to be accused of running a brothel. So if Wong catches one leaving with a patron, he tells her to clean out her locker. But he’s not stupid: he knows dancers will date customers. If a romantic relationship develops outside work, Wong imposes one rule: "He just can’t be in here when you’re working."

Wong used to work at a XXX bookstore that’s now a Dunkin’ Donuts, then eventually moved over to the Naked i, a strip club that shuttered in 1996. "Billy Bennett — God rest his soul — he approached a bunch of us that were working over there and said, ‘Don’t worry, if you guys need a job, my door’s always open.’" About four years ago, he became the Slipper’s general manager. "They have been so good to me over the years; I wouldn’t have it any other way."

Wong’s marriage fell apart over his work. "I was accused of fooling around with the dancers," he says, puffing on a Dunhill. His wife was suspicious of the late hours, of him coming home every night at 3:30 am. "At least if she was in the business, she would’ve understood the hours that the rest of us keep. But she wasn’t."

He knows he will face other big challenges if the Slipper’s able to move across the street. The owners are still in the process of securing the necessary permits from the city — if everything is approved the Slipper will reopen at 22 LaGrange sometime next spring. "We’ll be under extreme scrutiny," he says. "They’ll probably send in undercovers."

The Slipper was free of licensing infractions from 1991 until 1998 — the same year they tried to expand. Since then, they’ve had two major infractions: a one-day suspension in 2000 for an assault on the premises; another in 2001 when an undercover investigator found an underage dancer sitting with a drink and Romano paid a $6570 fine in lieu of a suspension. For the last four years, there have been no suspensions.

"It behooves the Slipper to keep as clean a record as they possibly can," adds Moy. "The Slipper is the last of a dying breed.... It’s a matter of survival."

The Slipper has changes planned for when they move across the street. They’re leaving behind the stools, the booths, the brass pole. "I’m trying to talk the owner into putting some of the stuff on eBay for our old customers," says Wong. But the brass reliefs of naked women on lettuce leaves will stay, since the late Bennett picked them out.

They also might institute a cover. "We want to improve our reputation," Wong explains. "In the business, we have a reputation for having some of the most god-awful-looking girls." He believes that’s mostly undeserved. "If you came in here 20 years ago, yeah, our reputation was very well-established and well-deserved. But if you look at the girls from the last 10 years, it has not been that way. Some things are hard to shake."

PARTING GIFT

The Slipper and Centerfolds may be direct competitors, but persecuted parties have to band together. Romano waves across the street at the Centerfolds bouncers working the door. Wong does the same the following Saturday, when I return, allegedly to interview the bespectacled dancer "René." I bring along the same date, who again not-very-begrudgingly ducks into the Slipper while I hang out on the sidewalk with Wong, who said he’d arrange for me to talk with her.

We stand outside on the Slipper’s sidewalk — a veritable break room. Grey-haired barmaid Barbara Ryder paces and smokes out here when business is slow. Joey, a commissioned runner missing his front teeth, skitters around and takes orders for 7-Eleven. There’s Jimmy, a goofy dude everybody seems to know, with no explicit purpose and a shrieking whistle. There’s even a semi-regular shoe-shiner who shows up that Saturday and polishes Wong’s shoes for the price of "whatever you can give."

Around 10 pm, a backpacked dancer still in her street clothes shows up. A pretty girl, she has eyebrows so overplucked they’ve got bald spots, and an iron-flat drape of silky pink hair. She’s more than an hour late for her Saturday-night shift. Wong eyes her charily.

"Danny, I’m sorry, I really tried." She just returned from getting these pink extensions from the hairdresser. "But in my own defense, other girls waltz in at 10 o’clock all the fuckin’ time." He explains that tardiness is reflected in their paychecks. She agrees to work a double tomorrow.

Bennett’s son Michael comes strolling down the block, briefcase in hand. Wong introduces us; this is the first time I’ve met him. Dark hair and glasses, he asks if I’m going to be working for him.

Ah, nope, Wong explains, she works for a newspaper.

"Oh, I don’t want to say anything until we’re in business across the street," he mumbles, adding something about vindictive city officials. Then he disappears across the road, into the building where the Slipper hopes to relocate.

I ask about René. Will I be able to interview her? Wong promises that if I give him my business card, he’ll have her call me. (She won’t.)

Right about then, my date appears. Apparently, while I’ve been outside waiting for René, she’s been inside joking with him about what $30 will buy at the Glass Slipper. To which he claims the bartender chimed in, "Whaddya want, a blow job?"

He hands me a handwritten receipt that reads:

$30.00 COCKtail FOR RENÉ

(BLOW JOB REFUSED)