From Behind My Green Eyes

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I remember my grandfather telling me one hot summer day a long time ago that everyone changes their mind and it is just a matter of time before it happens to me. I have waited more than a few years for this to happen. I have made some choices that other people haven’t been proud of. But, until recently I never knew that I was approaching a crossroads where I would be forced to make choices and forced to make changes. Life’s choices very rarely come without strings attached or without consequences, I have found this out the hard way more times than I want to count over the years. Before I begin with what I wrote in to say I just want to tell you I have been reading your blog for sometime now, even before it was WordPress hosted, and I found that I knew those people you write about and even know you. Knowing you is actually impossible because I know our paths have never crossed and I am pretty sure they never will, not because I don’t want to, because that would be cool, but it is because I live in Canada now. Making the switch from southern Florida to my home in Canada was almost as extreme as my changes have got, but wait, there’s more, the reason I wrote in, my crossroads, and my life altering mind change. If you go ahead and use my email I will greatly appreciate it, I don’t expect it tho, but I thought it was time that someone who understood a business that markets women to men and understands English might just be able to relate, something I don’t have way up here. I think I will take this opportunity to begin my story, the story of my life I left behind in Florida but will remain forever a part of me.

When I was twelve my parents divorced for many reasons and during everything I was brushed to the side and forgotten about. I lived with friends for nearly two weeks, continuing school and so forth, before my parents even realized I was gone. I hated the screaming, the fighting, and the blood. I was very lucky in a way, I was never subjected to the actual abusing but often I was made to sit and watch which in my opinion is just as bad. I never knew that my parents weren’t normal until I ran away. I left at age 13 and never looked back and left without a place to go. I never wanted to be found ever again. As the years went by I finished school under a completely made up name, in fact it wasn’t until I was 18 that I actually had a birth certificate and social security card. When I was 18 I was finally able to not live in the past, I was able to start looking forward and moving on, that the was the plan, and it almost happened, almost. I had always dreamed of a fairy tale life, being a model, and living in Europe somewhere. Shortly after turning 18 I found myself going to diffent parties almost every night, drinking too much, and waking up sometimes in a stranger’s bed. Then I met my prince one night. After a hard night of drinking I woke up in his house, still in my clothes, tucked in on his couch. I could smell breakfast and coffee being made and when I looked up over the back of the couch I saw him, he was older than me, in his forties, very well dressed, and looking very handsome. Over breakfast he tells me I can stay as long as I want, drive his cars, use his his pool, eat his food, and come and go as I pleased. Then, without a further word he left, I assumed he went to work. When he got home that night he had brought packages with clothing and shoes, make up and things to do my hair, bras and underwear, everything I just might need, except for a straight explanation. I was asked to get ready to go out because he had some friends and business associates that he wanted to introduce me to. I was shown into the master bath and he closed the door behind him as he left. When I got out of the shower I could see that he had brought everything into the bathroom and arranged it everywhere. Now I was wondering what he saw or if he watched but I wasn’t real concerned because so far he has been a true gentleman and nothing less. I chose to wear a very basic black cocktail dress, I hope he approves.

He barely batted an ear at me as he checked his watch, and gently guided men to the door of the garage. We got in his truck, backed out of the garage, and headed into the city. I had no idea where we were going which began to worry me, not quite into a panic, but I was watching where we were driving and nothing was familiar to me at all. We didn’t speak the entire 20 minutes of the drive, nor did we listen to the radio, we just drove through the dark silence of the night. We arrived at some kind of resort where we were escorted out of the truck by the valets and led up to the main doors. He looked at me and told me to remember, when asked or introduced, that I am his niece, visiting from California. I agreed and we continued on. We met allot of people as we made our way to a table which already had two men sitting at it. After a few hours of the men talking I was asked my one of them if I was ready to go to work in the morning. Not knowing what to say I looked at my prince, who was giving me a nod, so I said yes, absolutely. I still didn’t know what I was doing, I just went with it. The next morning I was dropped back off at this same resort and me a nice woman who had been waiting for my arrival. I was rushed to a room where a swarm of people began found my hair, my make up, and then I was told it was time for my wax. Wax? I was put in a room with an old Asian woman who undressed me completely and placed me on a table. I was waxed from the neck down front and back, not one hair remained, not even on my big toe. This was a very unique experience for me, never had that done before. As I laid on the table wrapped in moist warm blankets I was still wondering what in the hell I was doing here and why was all of this happening. After a while the door opened and a young man dressed in a suit carrying a notebook approaches me and asks if I am ready to rock-n-roll. Sure? I was asked to stand before him, as I did the Asian women removed the blankets, and there I stood in my birthday suit in front of this guy. As I tried to cover myself I was instructed to relax and let’s my arms down so I could stand up as straight as possible, meanwhile he walked around me a few dozen times as he wrote in his notebook. He motioned me to walk, to turn, and then to follow him out. We walked, me completely nude, down the hall and into another room where I was seated in a salon chair.

Within a few minutes a handful of people came in with a variety of carts and bags which they started unpacking all around me. The man with the notebook was sharing what he wrote with these people, pointing to me and answering questions they had. After show and tell was done he left and this small army swarmed in and began work. Someone doing god knows what to my hair, one started a facial, one started a manicure on my hands and then another with a pedicure. Each time I attempted to speak or ask questions I was immediately silenced. So, this is too bizarre, and I was really wanting to just leave, but escape was futile, I wasn’t going anywhere until I was let go. After a few hours the guy with the notebook came back to, what appeared to be, inspect me. He looked very pleased and was just short of congratulating the staff for a job well done. You see, I haven’t seen myself yet, as there have been no mirrors. The young mam explains I have an audition now and we needed to go to it. I just waltzed right out of butt ass naked following him down different halls, passing by numerous people, and then finally I was told to wait as he entered the room behind the closed door. When he returned he held the door open for me, explaining to follow the dots on the floor and stopping where there stopped. I was told to only speak if I was spoken to and not to squint. Squint? When the door shut it was completely dark, the only thing I saw were dots in the floor, which I followed until they eventually stopped. Moments after stopping I was flooded in light, but only me, only where I was standing, I could still not see where I was or who was in the room. I was very uncomfortable standing there naked with my hands on my hips. When I was asked to turn I did so, when I was told to stop I do so as well. This little drill happened over a dozen times before I was instructed to exit the way I entered and wait for my escort on the other side of the door. Next we went to what appears to be a doctors exam room where I was told to have a seat in the exam chair and wait to be seen by the doctor. When she came in she announced I was about to have a well woman exam and then I would be visiting the dentist. At this point, I had to ask, just what in the fuck was going on and I wanted to know who these people were. I got the silent treatment. After the exam I remained naked, and was led to yet another room where my teeth were examined, cleaned, and whitened. I was told to wait for my escort once again. He came in and told me I had done a fine job and everyone was very pleased with me. I was left alone in this Barbie dream closet full of every designer thing imaginable. Thinking I could get dressed I browsed the different dresses. Finally, there is a mirror, finally I can see what they have done to me. When I looked in the mirror the person staring at me was not the person who stared back at me when I woke up that morning. I had a hard time believing I was looking at myself in the mirror.

After getting dressed, which was odd, because I didn’t find any bras and panties, I was taken out to the front of the resort and put into an awaiting car. In the car was a man whose voice I recognized from the dark room, he explained I would be traveling with him now and from this moment forward we will be husband and wife. What? I woke up many hours later in a big fancy hotel room. My head was pounding and I really had to go to the bathroom. Then I got the shock of my life, as I looked into the toilet water I see blood, lots of blood. After cleaning myself up I ran out to use the phone and found an envelope laying on my dress. Inside of it was a release of marital contract and $100,000.00 cash. I quickly got dressed and rushed down to the lobby but nobody would speak to me, nobody. What is going on. When I went outside my prince charming was there standing beside his truck and tells me to get in. Not knowing what to do I got in. We ended back at his house and he tells ,e all of my questions can wait until the morning and that all of the money o was given is actually mine. I was then sent to bed like a child. I showered so I could scrub, but no matter how hard I scrubbed I kept feeling dirtier each time. All I can wonder is what is happening to me. That I cried myself to sleep hoping this was all some kind of fucked nightmare. Sunrise came too soon, I was still where I went to sleep. I felt disappointed and disillusioned because I could only assume what was next.

My prince was gone when I went to the kitchen. There was a note on the table which said I had the next few days off but when he returned Friday be ready to get back to work. Ready to get back to work? Is he a modern day pimp? What’s going on because I cannot and will not be one more person’s one night stand bride. It will not be happening twice I can promise. Just like that I packed a small bag and bailed out the door. Not knowing where I was going I wandered around until after dark, until I figured out how to get away, far away. Then I got in my head, I am leaving the country, I am getting the hell as far away as as I can. I found my way to the train station to get some place away from here so I could get to an airport. While on that train I stayed awake, I watched everything and everyone, I was tired but refused to sleep, I figured I could sleep when I got to wherever I was headed. Once in another city I went to the airport and just looked around at all the destination posters everywhere and then I found the perfect place, Canada. I plan on disappearing, I plan on not being found, because I am not going back to Florida.

A note from Scorpion Sting: I added this story to the Bartender section of my blog not because I understand anything she has done in her life but because her story reminds me of many girls who found being a stripper was not the life for them. Plus, I like being able to share people’s life stories so that maybe, just maybe, someone somewhere makes a connection. I understand my blog is small and not too widely known, plus the person who writes on it is a sarcastic jackass, but I also know if I like reading these stories than one or two people more might also. No follow up contact was made per her request. She just wanted to be able to see her story printed somewhere by somebody. Therefore, where the story ends is where it ends as far as I am concerned. I don’t know the time frame or anything else other than what you have read in this post. Sometimes real life seems stranger than fiction. If it is made up then kudos to her, if not then I am glad she got the hell out. The image was found using Google search. The story came to me untitled so I did my best, for some reason I just imagined her having bright green eyes but I’m sure I will never know.