Who knew there was so much to think about, starting with how Bunny Starr taught the trainees to approach a table? “Make eye contact with each guest. Remember, they’re here to have a good time. Smile and introduce yourself, and stand with your hips squared. Check the ashtrays and place napkins down with the bunny emblem facing the guests. Ladies first—always ladies first. Remember to seek the approval of the wives. It’s more important to talk to the women than the men, and avoid flirting with the husbands at all costs. The women need to know that you aren’t there to be a home-wrecker. I’ll tell you, the more insecure the woman is in her relationship, the more she’ll hate your guts. You want them to realize you aren’t the trash they think you are. You’re just working.” Bunny Starr smiled.

The drinks were arranged in a very specific order on her tray, and the women were taught how to serve them with the famous “Bunny Dip.” “You don’t want to be seen bending at the waist or appearing to sit. You are absolutely forbidden from reaching across a table.” Bunny Starr was so serious she might have been leading a lesson on gun safety.

Dipping was much harder than it looked. Sherri put her knees together, leaned into her right leg, and attempted to serve sideways and backwards from her tray. The empty glasses slid off and clattered to the floor. The move reminded her of the weather girl on television pointing at the map. “No, not like that,” Starr said, reaching for her arm, spotting her like a gymnastics coach. “Like this.” She thrust Sherri’s arm behind her so that her shoulder ached. “Try again. And again. It’ll be even harder once you’re in heels.” They practiced for an entire afternoon, over and over, until Sherri’s hips and back ached. “You need to get this right.”

And if she didn’t? Well, there were room captains, Bunny Starr explained, and they watched every single move the Bunnies made. They would be written up daily for their dips, along with their attitude and appearance. The Bunny Mother would hear about every little thing that could possibly go wrong: the slightest grimace or pea-sized stain on their uniform would get them a demerit. “Enough demerits and you’ll be out in the parking lot on your ass,” Bunny Starr said.