The Bunny Years (16 page)

A
LICE
N
ICHOLS

R
ecently divorced, Alice Nichols needed a job that would allow her to be with her young son during the day. She found work as a cocktail waitress in one of the “bust-out” joints, as they were called, on Rush Street.

“I didn't know anything about those places. but I learned quickly enough that hookers worked out of there. Those girls were very protective of me. They made sure I got good tips and that customers didn't come on to me, but I still felt uneasy working there. Then I heard about the Playboy Club opening.

“Arnie Morton was running the Club. If he hadn't been such a ‘leg and behind' man, I would never have gotten the job! The Bunnies who were hired in the beginning all had big breasts. The girls with the really humongous breasts were usually assigned to the ‘26' table playing dice with the customers. I guess the theory was that guys would be mesmerized by voluptuous girls and wouldn't pay attention to how much they were betting.

Bunny Alice, 1960.

“In those days, you had to buy your own merry widow corset at Schwartz's on Rush Street. The Bunny costume was then built around it using a thick, satiny material. Later, we added a satin shell that came in a variety of sizes that could be adjusted. The tails were also fabricated from a different material because customers were always trying to light them—they had to be made out of something fire-retardant. The satin ears were attached to very tight plastic hair bands, which caused agonizing headaches and were a source of contention between the Bunnies and Victor Lownes. On opening night, when a good number of Bunnies took the ears off, Victor flew into a rage and ordered the women to put them back on.

“I was the first Bunny trainer, and I kind of stumbled into the job. On one of my first evenings in the Playmate Bar, I went up to a customer and said ‘I'm your Bunny Alice. May I see the member's key, please?' The man told me his name was Hugh Hefner. But I insisted upon seeing a key before I served him a drink.

“He said, ‘You don't understand, I'm Hugh Hefner.' And I said, ‘You don't understand. You don't get a drink until I see your key.' At that time, all I knew was that Arnie Morton ran the Club. The bartender quickly put me straight. ‘Why didn't somebody show me a picture of this guy?' I asked.

“When I came back to the table where Mr. Hefner was sitting, I spilled my drink tray all over him and his guest, one of the comedians performing at the Club. It was a disaster.

“There was no training program at that time, only a few loose rules for taking and serving a drink order. After that accident with Mr. Hefner, I proposed a training program and worked with Keith Hefner and Arnie Morton to develop it. Later, I worked as a Bunny Mother, training Bunnies for the Club openings in Miami, New Orleans, New York and Los Angeles. All of the Clubs were different and, of course, labor laws and policies varied from city to city. In New York, girls under 21 couldn't work past a certain hour. Scheduling around school hours was a factor in almost all of the Clubs because Playboy wanted to promote that image of the college girl. We didn't want Bunnies to be thought of as nothing more than empty-headed pretty girls. Ideally, each girl had to be someone with intelligence and good conversational skills. And a sense of humor was a
major
asset.

“The newly hired Bunnies generally started out in the Playmate Bar and worked their way up to the Showrooms. I preferred working in the Showrooms. So many entertainers performed on the Playboy Club circuit: Red Foxx, Bill Cosby, Peter Allen, Jackie Gayle, Dick Gregory, Lainie Kazan and George Carlin, to name just a few.

“It was a hard job because you were on your feet the whole time, walking in high heels and carrying a heavy tray. A tray of drinks for four people weighed at least 10 pounds by the time you had your shots and the glasses of ice with water or soda on the side.

“On one occasion, I was serving a party of about a dozen men, who all worked in the same office. The key member, who was not the boss, got everybody into the Club, but it was his boss who became drunk and obnoxious. All the other men were uncomfortable, particularly the Keyholder because he knew it was Club policy that if you got out of line, your key was confiscated. Once you lost your membership, you couldn't come back. I was carrying a trayful of drinks and doing the Bunny Dip when the drunken man grabbed my crotch and said, ‘How do you like that?'

“Everyone else at the table was mortified. But I was mad. I had my tray on my left hand so I smacked him on the nose with my right hand—without spilling a drink. As his eyes started to water, I said, ‘How do you like that?'

“I was sure I'd lost my job and I really didn't care because I didn't want to put up with that kind of behavior. Instead, everyone, including the management, took my side. The Keyholder gave me my first hundred-dollar tip.

“We developed a secret means of dealing with unruly customers. One of our favorite Bunnies was Vera. Her parents didn't approve of her job as a Bunny but finally agreed to visit the Club. Everyone was sure that once they saw her working in a nice, protected environment they'd be pleased. But that night, a guy in Vera's station seemed to be giving her a hard time—and here Vera had told her parents it was such a safe place to work. So her friend, Bunny Denise, followed our standard procedure: she ordered a
Pousse café—a
drink with layers of sweet, heavy cordials that the bartenders hated to make—and proceeded to dump it on the offender, making it look like an accident so Vera's tip wouldn't be affected. Denise, looking very smug, thinking she'd done Vera a favor, said, ‘I took care of him!' But Vera had this terrible look on her face. ‘That's my father,' she said.

Alice Nichols, Los Angeles, 1965.

“We developed a Merit/Demerit Program to reward Bunnies who adhered to the rules and penalize those who ignored them. Something had to be done to keep things fair. Most of the demerits came from poor grooming and tardiness. If your Bunny tail wasn't fluffy and you were late for work, you could count on demerits. Initially, each demerit cost a dollar, and the money went into a kitty to reward the Bunny of the Month who had earned the most merits for helping out with promotions, working as a replacement or selling the most drinks in souvenir Playboy mugs.

“As a Bunny Mother, I had to fire girls for two primary reasons: tardiness and no-shows. There were others who chronically disobeyed the rules, and some who couldn't physically do the work. Those were the worst dismissals, firing a girl who desperately wanted to be a Bunny but just couldn't carry the tray or endure standing on her feet in high heels for any length of time.

“When the Clubs started, 4-inch high heels were the fashion for women. The Vargas girls in
Playboy
magazine were considered appealing and sensuous and high-heeled
shoes were part of that image. But New York was so fashion-conscious and sophisticated that women in the 1960s never thought of wearing anything other than high heels. Somehow, women managed to walk all over town in dressy shoes, whatever the weather.

Alice at home in Phoenix.

“But the New York Club was where the Bunnies wanted to change everything, including having the option of wearing lower-heeled shoes with the Bunny costume. The New York Bunnies also wanted to unionize, and that meant the beginning of seniority and the automatic 15 percent tip. Bunnies thought it was wrong to pay bar fees, that it should be illegal to make an employee ‘pay' to work. But that money went straight to the bus-boys who also deserved tips. If it hadn't been for the hardworking busboys clearing tables quickly, the Bunnies would lose money on turnover.

“I worked 11 years for Playboy, moving from one Club to another until late 1970. I was working as Bunny Mother in the Los Angeles Club when I decided it was time to move on and find another career. I became a vice president with Merle Norman Cosmetics, and later worked for Marriott Hotels. I'm now retired and live in Phoenix.

“I had one dull job while I was still in high school, and I swore I'd never have another boring job. I never have.”