The juicy details of my personal life or thoughts. (As juicy as it gets around here anyway.)
Curious about others I’ve fallen out of touch with, I decided to Google this guy I knew back when I was dancing. He wasn’t what I’d consider a good friend (not in any sense of the word) but he had a unique online handle.
What was surprising was that he was still using that identity and that it tied him to, of all things, Thai prostitution boards. It appears he’s living over there and is becoming quite the expert.
Last week I reconnected with my best friend from high school. I haven’t spoken to her in eight or nine years. There was no animosity, just a simple drifting.
Most of that was my fault. We started drifting when I started cocktailing at a strip club. Although we laughed about the job, I let myself lose contact with her when I started stripping (I had a feeling she wouldn’t like it) And she moved back to East Texas around that time, which made it easier to lose contact.
As is the way of small towns, she recently ran into my mother and my mother told her about my nonprofit. She contacted me through there. I was surprised, thrilled and scared when I received her message.
An unexpected surprise today – I was tagged! The Copywriting Maven, Roberta Rosenberg, tagged me yesterday. This is extremely flattering since the woman knows her stuff. I discovered her blog about a month ago (maybe a little longer). I also discovered that Ex-Courtesan tagged me last week as well.
Whomever is tagged reveals five things about themselves that few people know. Then they tag five other bloggers to play. There is no deep purpose to it.
One night I made my usual illegal U-turn onto Northwest Highway after 2:30am. It was a weeknight. I was tired, probably a bit liquored up and ready to head home. A girl in a beat up red car (Ford or Buick or something) pulled up next to me and motioned at me. She looked normal and there was no one in the car with her. I pulled into an empty restaurant parking lot and she pulled next to me. I thought she might’ve been a lost dancer or drunker than me. Since I had a cell phone (a different one which I knew how to operate) I was ready to call the police if she was in trouble.
During Christmas break, I worked every night at my part-time job and started my photo internship (in Dallas; 8am-5pm). Since I was operating on about three hours of sleep a night, I lasted a week (by the end of it I was hallucinating while driving). With the internship over, I realized I had some spare time and decided to look for a good paying job.
I checked out the possibilities of a studio. The Venus Room had just opened up and was running ads. I went there one afternoon. They were professional. The girls were skinny, beautiful, groomed and dressed to the nines. The place smelled lovely and rich. It was subdued and attractive. The woman who took my application (another application form!) and answered my questions was very nice. This place ran in shifts, but the hours were very reasonable. They closed at 10pm on Fridays. In other words, no crazies. I liked it, but wasn’t sure I was ready for a studio. I understood there was sex, but, once again, there was also the whole dancing/tipping thing too.
So I decided to try and waitress at a strip club.