A Pumpkinless Spiced Weekend

In pursuit of wanting to have her story looked over and possibly shared here on The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog, a long time silent follower decided her experience this past weekend just might spark the interests of me but also all of the regular readers. I will give you a background on Eve and then let her story begin. Eve is a very shy young lady, at the age of 22 she is an off and on college student, as the funds permit, and once she left being an unhappy employee at a well known and popular coffee shop she found herself working the overnight shift at an adult clothing boutique. She was in charge of placing new displays and keeping the window as appealing as possible to the passing public. After five months of working there she was feeling as if she had found a home. She was having fun, the work wasn’t bad, and she always got to meet some truly interesting people nightly. Which is where her story begins and I shut up.

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I check out your blog a couple times a week, reading when I have the time, and realized I just had what might qualify in your terms as a Magic Weekend. I guess we’ll see how much you like it if I see it posted or not. Either way, here goes.

I had just finished up the new displays in the front window when things got kinda strange for me. This older gentleman came into the store after thoroughly checking out my new displays, he wandered around a bit, not really looking at anything, but I noticed he kept looking in my direction. Soon enough he slowly approached the check out counter where I asked him if I could help him decide on anything special. His face lit up, he took a deep breath, and then he asked if employees modeled the outfits for their customers. I played off the question but in my head I’m wondering if this fucking man has lost his mind or something. If I can, let take a break from the story and myself to you because I really consider myself to be highly average in my body type and looks. I’m 5’7″, around 130 pounds, toned but not muscular, and living in the midwest I have a moderate fake and bake tan, natural dark dirty blonde hair, and measure up at 34C-25-33 body. I wear jeans and t-shirts to work, don’t wear makeup, and 99% of the time my hair is pulled back in a tight pony tail. As I said, I find myself looking average. He went ahead and asked me again if I could model an outfit for him since I have basically the same body as his girlfriend and about the same age of her as well. He looks to be in his late forties, pushing fifty if I had to guess. Now I’m a bit embarrassed because he is being so polite about it and I feel bad saying no.

Playing his game a bit, I asked him what he had in mind and after a few moments of thought he points to the outfit in the window. He wants to see what the barista uniform looks like on a living breathing female. Seeing in my face I wasn’t going to do it he offers me $500 for a quick show. I’m trying to figure this out, he will pay me $500 to try on a $69 outfit. I tell him I’m not for sale. He shot straight back with a $1000 offer. Being a smart ass I ask, “cash up front and before”? He laid ten $100 bills on the counter. I asked what he wants in return and he says he wants to watch me change, he wants a ten minute parade which needs to include bending over, stretching up high, walking around, and squatting down. He only asks for one picture that I can choose for him and he will take pictures only using my personal cell phone. Seems like an interesting proposal with minimal effort on my part. Plus, I have a really old phone so they will be crappy pictures anyhow. I tell him if he is truly serious about all this to come back in 30 minutes and I will have an answer for him. He complied, leaving the money in my care. The money would come in very handy is all I can think about. So, before he returned I got the outfit out in my size.

In precisely 30 minutes he returned and asked what I decided. Decided? Well, in reality I haven’t fully decided yet. This is all still kind of fucked up if you ask me. Screw it, if he is willing to drop a grand for ten minutes of costume modeling then I’m game. I dug my phone out of my back pocket, switched on the camera, and handed it to him. I decided to just do this entire thing at the register counter. With one final deep breath I began kicking off my shoes, peeling my socks off, I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down while I faced away from him. It was at this point I here the camera making it’s fake clicking noise so I slowly lift my shirt over my head and then remove my bra as well. There I stood naked for this guy to fucking see. I don’t know what he expected now but I started putting on the costume. When I squatted down to get the costume I could see through the glass counter that his rock hard dick was poking through his dress slacks. I won’t lie, it was impressive, and it made me blush a bit because it was all because of me, except I wasn’t really doing anything except flirting around a bit. I got dressed slowly, it was a bit challenging because I didn’t have a mirror to look into, closest thing I had was a reflection in the glass. Fortunately for me I keep an eye on his huge erection. The costume didn’t cover very well at all anywhere, which I guess is the point, and I started getting into this performance much more. I walked around slowly in the store, bending and squatting often, and he just followed me, watching me, and taking pictures.

He kept track of time as well, he told me my ten minutes were up, it could have been 30 minutes for all I knew. But I wasn’t done playing yet, I walked over, turned my back to him, and began rubbing my as on this man’s erection, it feels good sliding between my cheeks, I pressed hard against it, at this point I wanted that big dick right now. But wait, snap the fuck out of it right now, you are not fucking this guy, not now, not never. But I need to see it so I unzip his pants and hold it firmly in my hand, it was hot and throbbing, looking like it could just explode at any moment. I needed to be done tho, so I politely kiss the tip of this throbbing meat and walked away slowly. Behind the counter again I went ahead and changed back into my clothes. When I bent down to gather the costume I noticed that the panties were all but soaked, I was a little horny I think. Asking him what he thinks he tells me it was perfectly executed, very nicely done, and he will buy the one I was wearing as a souvenir of his visit. When he pays he leaves his business card, telling me if I ever wanted to model for him again he would be right over, just give him a call. I hated seeing him go, I wasn’t actually done with him yet, but he walked out as quietly as he walked in.

The rest of my night was quiet, not another customer came in. The shit part is that when I went in to work the next night I was terminated for “gross inappropriate behavior with a customer”. Seems the hidden cameras in the store caught it all on tape. The owner wasn’t real happy with me, but he is a fucking sleaze anyway, he never tried anything, but he just creeped me out in general. On the plus side, I got my final paycheck which includes my commission in that last sale. I’m thinking about calling Robert tonight, see if he wants to help me celebrate my recent unemployment.

Interesting story, it fits right in to the parameters of The Magic Weekend because it was sexual without the sex and money because of it. I don’t know, I’ll just let y’all, the readers, be the judge. So, what about the rest of y’all? What did your Magic Weekend involve? Don’t be shy, send your story in today!

Still Living The Life Of A Stripper

In the paragraphs below y’all will be reading information which I finally had time to transcribe from a recorded talk I had with a very good friend of mine and former employer. She discusses the life of a stripper, how to make money, what to do with that money, personal safety, and so much more. I encourage y’all to set some time aside to read the information she has provided as it is considerably lengthy. It also provides insight to her personal accomplishments and how she has become a successful businesswoman. There are very different professions for all of the people who want to work, hopefully this will show y’all a different view of the world a stripper lives in. This could very easily be done as three separate posts but I’m an all you can eat buffet kind of guy who likes to get my fill all in one sitting. So, with that being said, here we go.

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To begin with let me say that I started stripping at the age seventeen with a fake identification and a fast talking mouth. With that resting comfortably in the back of your head I also opened my own full nude strip club at the age of 24 in Houston and have since opened another location in Dallas. There are a great deal of misconceptions out there about strippers and that is something you will have to deal with if you enter the profession. I will say this, I truly enjoy what I do and I have never felt exploited because I’m a stripper. In fact I have always felt it was far more personally empowering than any other profession. But stripping is not for everyone. It requires a certain temperament. Don’t go and become a stripper because you feel you “have” to. If you hate what you do it will show and you will make very little money as a stripper. The minute you start dancing the clock is ticking. There are a limited number of years in which to make as much money as you can. Most dancers retire around 27. If you’re starting when you’re 18 that gives you nine years in which to make as much money as you can and then get out. Chances are you will never again be able to make as much per day as you do while stripping. Make the most of of the time.

There are two kinds of strippers, subsistence and capital strippers. A subsistence stripper just works enough to get by. Maybe a few days a week, saves little and is always in a financial crisis. I see these girls panicking to get enough dances to pay rent the next day but by the next week they are back to partying, doing drugs, buying expensive clothes and generally pissing away every dime they earn. Their plans for the future are vague at best and even though they claim to realize they can’t dance forever they seldom save and invest their money or invest in an education. These girls get out of the business no better then they started and spend the rest of their lives getting their ass pinched in menial, low paying jobs. A capital stripper dances as an investment. In my opinion this is the only reason to strip. Stripping is just too hard a way to earn a living to do it for just enough to “get by”. You can get by on a McDonalds salary. If you are going to have guys staring at your naked ass all evening you should at least be securing a decent future for yourself, not just tomorrow’s groceries and rent. There are many excuses for not saving your money but in my experience few of them are valid. Single mother, health problems whatever, you can still afford to save. If you work hard you can make a great deal of money stripping.

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When you see that money in your hand it just doesn’t seem real, and when you keep seeing it night after night it seems like the supply will be endless. It’s really not, you need to put away the largest portion you can. Not just 10% or so but 40% or 60%. It is possible to do that and still live a very comfortable life. Strippers tend to live beyond their means and end up with nothing but memories of that nice sports car or that fancy apartment. If you can just keep it under control for a few years you can have that stuff for the rest of your life, long after you’re done stripping. Live within your means; base your spending around not what you make stripping but what you would make at a good entry-level job. Get a good, reliable car but you don’t need that giant SUV or fast sports car. Make sure your lease or car loan doesn’t rely on a strippers level of income to pay it. Same goes for the rent or mortgage. It’s very easy to fall on heels and break an ankle or tear up your knee, it happens all the time. You could be out of work for weeks or even months. You don’t want to be buried under a mountain of bills. I suggest buying at least basic health insurance but if you don’t you will need at least enough savings to pay for emergencies.

So what to do with the money you save? Well, set enough aside to pay for all of your expenses like food, housing, tuition, utilities, car, whatever for 4 months. This is your emergency fund, put it in your saving account and don’t spend it. The rest you should invest. I have a few well chosen mutual funds that I have been very happy with. As a stripper you’re looking to invest for the long term, at least 5 years and probably 10. Mutual funds are low maintenance and are well suited for this purpose. I strongly advise against investing in individual stocks. Despite all tales of buying low and selling high at the end of the year very few people are able to make money off buying and selling individual stocks. Stick with mutual funds, they are safer and more reliable (at least for the novice investor).

The best possible investment you can make is an education. With a nice big nest egg and a good degree you can do just about anything you want when you retire from stripping. Without an education or any job skills that money will eventually be gone. With an education you can make the most of your savings, use it as capital for your own business or invest it for a steady source of income. Too many strippers talk about how they’re planning on going back to school or they’re just taking a semester off. This is bullshit, if you want an education you need to go to school and work hard. If you’re not going to school then you’re pissing away your own future.

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At most clubs you will walk around and ask the customers if they’d like a private dance (or lap dance depending on the club). Some clubs just have stage dancing. Often there is a private area that you can go for a dance. Be careful, though, the dim lights and the privacy tend to make the guys a little frisky. Not in a bad or scary way just in a way that may need to be corrected. The most important thing to do when you’re dancing is to smile and make eye contact. Nothing turns a guy off faster then a stripper strolling bored around the stage while staring vacantly off into space. Try to make each guy you’re dancing for think he’s the only guy you’re dancing for. This is how the pros make the big bucks. At many clubs a significant part of your nightly earnings comes from private dances. Most of the time the customer will pay for you to sit and talk with them as well. Guys vary a lot but it’s always important to be attentive. Nobody likes to feel like they’re being ignored. Most guys are pretty nice and easy to talk to. Provided you’re a good listener and act interested, it’s no problem. Then you get the guys who aren’t trying to be obnoxious, they just don’t have the best social skills. They will sit and alternate between nagging you to go out with them and lying about how much money they have, how many places they’ve traveled, how important they are in their company, etc. Simpering and looks of wide-eyed wonder come in handy at this point. Some guys are an absolute pleasure to sit with, they buy plenty of dances, they visit on a regular basis, and best of all they’re lots of fun to talk too. It’s guys like this who really make it all worth while.

When dancing it’s important to stay motivated, at most clubs you are an independent contractor. You won’t get fired if you don’t work hard and no one will say anything if you decide to hang out at the bar and talk all night talking to the bartender. You need to treat being a stripper like a job and not a social experience. Decide on what time and how long you will have dinner for, the rest of the time work the floor as hard as you can. Make sure you always get at least 8 hours of sleep so you’re not tired. You’ll look and feel better. Set a clear goal, try to get 4 dances and hour, as you get better set higher goals for yourself. Never assume a passive approach and wait for them to call you over, stay moving and keep working. If it’s hard and you just can’t get motivated make a game of it, make bets with other girls on who can get the most dances. Promise yourself ice cream if you reach a certain goal, whatever you have to do to stay motivated and keep earning that money.

Learning how to properly break the ice and get invited to sit with a customer takes time. Most girls tend to just walk around to every guy in the room and ask “Wanna dance?” and then when he says no walk off. This is the exact wrong approach. Every guy in that room has enough money for at least one dance and you just have to find the right words to get them to buy one or more. “Wanna dance?” can work in a very crowded room or if a guy is already interested but it will do absolutely nothing to convince a guy who was uninterested to change his mind. It’s too easy to say no to and that is usually what happens. To start with, choose your targets, who is looking at you the most when you are on stage or dancing for other customers? Talk to the bartender (always be friends and take to the bartender) and the floor hosts about who has an open tab or has been spending a lot of money. If a bartender or floor hosts gives you a good lead and you make money ALWAYS tip them at the end of the night and that way next time they will go to you first when they see a big spender. When you approach your prospective customer try and say anything but “Wanna dance?”: would you like some company?, would you like if I joined you? If the room is slow and he seems reluctant put a very slight push on. If he says he’s not interested ask if he would mind if you just sat down and rested your feet for a minute- you’re “not used to these heels”. Few men are going to say no to that, and the “not used to these heels” implies that you’re a new dancer and invites conversation. If 10 minutes go by and he still doesn’t buy a dance don’t ask- just say “I’m sorry, I’ve got to get back to work- it’s been nice talking to you okay?” This implies that you didn’t consider sitting with him work, a slight bit of flattery that will get you a dance later. Think of this approach as “seeding” in that you may not get the dance then, but chances are you will later. After a half-hour of “wanna dance” from the other girls he’s going to wish for your company again and probably be willing to pay for it. Or even the next time he comes in your’s will be the familiar face. With this approach it’s important you not spend too long with them, always keep them hungry. Unless they’re paying don’t sit with them longer then 10 to 15 minutes and only that long if the room is very slow. If they’re used to getting it for free it’s going to be hard to get them to pay for it. You’re friendly and available and they just have to be willing to pay for it.

Never ever, sit on your own or hang out at the bar talking to other strippers. At any given time you should be either sitting with a customer, moving to another customer or on stage getting naked. If you’re just standing around they will assume you’re not busy and it will be very hard to get a customer to pay for your time because “you’re not doing anything anyway”. Look busy, if they think other men want you then they will want you. It’s important you have respect for the money they give you, so much money changes hands that girls often forget what it represents. Let’s say your customer earns $40,000 a year after taxes- probably about average income for a stripclub patron in Houston. That works out to around $20 an hour. If a customer sits with you and you make $100, that’s 5 hours of his time. If a handyman came to your house and fixed thing for 5 hours you’d say “thank you” right? Always thank the customer and make sure he knows you mean it. Even if $100 doesn’t seem like a lot of money to you to the average customer it is.

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One last thing, don’t screw with guys’ heads. It’s not cool, you can make money without doing it. I see lots of girls who string guys along implying they’ll go out with them if they just visit a few more times or laying on sob stories about their sick children or parents. Don’t do it, there is never any reason for you to lie as a stripper. After a few repetitions it gets very fake and you just come off as a greedy gold digging bitch. If you want customers to treat you with respect you should treat them with respect. If they are disrespectful just walk away, there is no reason for you to sink to their level. There are more then enough good men who will to pay you to sit, talk and laugh with them and when you dance they will treat you like a goddess. As customers they deserve your courtesy and if they don’t respect you in return they don’t deserve to have you spend time with them. Safety is a critical issue for strippers. Many menaked not understand that what we sell is a fantasy or feel that our employment makes us fair game for unwanted attentions. The six dumbest words that can leave a woman’s mouth are “I can take care of myself”. No you can’t, and get any notion that you’re some kind of tough girl out of your head. Men are bigger, stronger and meaner. They’ve been beating and raping women for thousands of years now and have pretty much got it down pat. Your little kick boxing lessons at the health club will not help you. If a grown man hits you full force you will be knocked unconscious and very likely break the bones in your face. Do not ever make safety decisions based on your opinion of your ability to defend yourself.

I personally think that carrying weapons or taking martial art, self-defense classes etc. are a bad idea for most women. The most effective way to survive is to be scared; anything that makes you brave makes you more likely to walk into a dangerous situation. If you have a gun in your purse you might be more likely to take that shortcut home, or take a ride with a man you don’t know very well or any number of risky things. If you’re scared you’re careful, if you’re careful you don’t get into trouble. If you are a feature stripper, have a very public presence (website or modeling), or have had problems with a stalker then a gun may be something you want to consider purchasing. You need to be trained in it’s use and practice with it at a firing range at least once every few months. Don’t bother carrying one unless you comfortable with the idea of killing someone. That’s what guns are for, you’re not going to be shooting knives out of anyone’s hands, you’re going to be trying to make a hole in the center of their torso. If you have small hands like me you can have a gunsmith machine a trigger guard that will comfortable fit your finger but too small for the finger of a grown man. But I would like to emphasize, most women are far better off not carrying a gun. Only if you are in a position of constantly being exposed to unavoidable danger is it an option.

One never wishes to blame the victim but every single girl I know without exception who has ever gotten into trouble was doing something most women would consider risky or just plain stupid. Don’t take chances- the stakes are too high. As a stripper, leaving the club after work is the time when you are most vulnerable. I have only gotten scared twice at work. On both occasions it was when an overly enthusiastic customer decided to wait for me outside the club after closing. On both occasions the men were just confused about the nature of what a stripper does and were quickly dealt with by security. This being said, transportation is a critical safety issue that you really have to think about. Going to work is not a problem because customers can’t really see where you are coming from. Leaving is when you have to be most vigilant. Public transportation is out of the question, it’s too easy to be followed and is rarely safe at the hours you’ll be riding. I’d suggest sharing a cab with one of the other girls. If you decide to drive, make very sure that your car is reliable, last thing you need is a break down on an empty road at 3AM. A cell phone is a good thing to have. Make sure when you register you car you do it to another address (friend, parent, etc.). That way if some creep takes down your license plate number he can’t find out your home address. For obvious reasons never give any personal info to anyone who knows you as a stripper, including other strippers. There are strippers and bouncers who will give the information to customers for money or as a favor. There is no reason anyone needs to know anything but your stage name. Don’t tell them where you live or what school you go to no matter how trust worthy they seem. Once that information is out it’s very difficult to put back in the box.

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We are not all success stories. I had my eye on the prize the first time someone slipped money in my garter. I learned how to capitalize on a man’s willingness to part with his hard earned money to see me naked. Done properly, a stripper can sock away grand amounts of cash just by dancing naked, and it can end as a very fruitful career choice. Not every girl is a naturally born stripper, you have to be willing to work your ass off, and then the world holds endless possibilities for you.

Sex Sells In Everyday Advertising

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I know that I’m not the only one on the planet who sees that there are many companies using “SEX” to try to sell the public their products or services. To be honest, I have seen many that the message they are trying to send is lost and all we are left with is a memory of something sexy, but we are no closer to buying anything afterwards. Maybe that’s the point. Anyway, I decided to put together a handful of posts to relay examples of a few categories which use “SEX” to sell, for example, automobiles, food, music, clothing, candy, businesses, promoting, accessories, alcohol, nonalcoholic drinks, and much more. And yes, I must admit, I have always tried to have a little sexy around when promoting my own blog. So, I’m looking forward to this little exploration, I hope y’all enjoy it as well.

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Stop Asking Me What Color It Is!

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For those of y’all who weren’t aware, I’m color blind, I suffer from deuteranopia (deu-ter-an-opia) (dü-tə-rə-ˈnō-pē-ə) to be more specific. Before I get into this post I want to give y’all some information that may help you in the future when you encounter person who suffers from color blind/ color deficient vision. Deuteranopia:(also called green-blind). In this case the medium wavelength sensitive cones (green) are missing at all. A deuteranope can only distinguish 2 to 3 different hues, whereas somebody with normal vision sees 7 different hues. Don’t forget that y’all also know how to Google things, but this time I helped y’all out. I don’t get angry easy, I don’t hate too many things (the list is real short), but I draw the line seeing the humor asking anyone who is color blind “what color something is” because it isn’t a game for us, period. We live our lives seeing this beautiful world the way we see this beautiful world and that is the end of that.

Now, I was not born color blind that I know of, or at least not completely according to my mother, but when it actually started I couldn’t tell you. I do know I failed my first driver’s license test because I failed to be able to distinguish the colored number hidden within the colored dots. After a trip to the optometrist it was declared that I was “suffering” from deuteranopia. The optometrist mentioned to my mother that it was probably accelerated a great deal due to some head trauma I had a little less than a year before. So, from age 16 on I have learned to trick my mind into seeing things that are not there. Memorization of certain things helps as well. I make do, as we all do, we do it everyday, not because it is a choice, but it is what it is and that is how we are forced to live.

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The times I hate most about being color blind is when someone new finds out. Why? It’s simple, because they immediately, and I mean absolutely immediately, begin asking me to tell them what color this thing is or what color do I see for that thing. Enough is enough. Here is the plain and simple truth, I don’t know what colors y’all are seeing in the first place so any comparison I make is pointless. I vowed, after today, to punch the next person in the face with a chair who asks me what color something is because, unlike for that person, it is not a joke to me. Therefore, my gift will be a chair to the face. Lights out bitches! I consider it rude and very insensitive to not take into consideration that it is a condition and not a choice, and it definitely is not a freaking game of red light green light or simon says.

I do get asked how this affects my daily life overall, in a nutshell, and how do I “cope” with it. Well, first, I don’t look at it as a handicap of any sorts, it’s just how my life is. There are challenges I assure you, but when one gets good enough at interpreting the world around himself it becomes much more easy. As an example, take driving into consideration, all signs, signals, and warnings are in color. It blows my wife’s mind still to this day because I can “tell” what “color” the traffic signal is and she doesn’t get out. All traffic lights are either vertical or horizontal, with the colors either top to bottom or left to right, red always being on top or on the left. So, when one is lit up I can tell which one it is and what I need to do, stop, caution, or go. My problem is single flashing signals because who in the hell knows what color they are flashing.

A few other challenges I have are when I cook, things turn a different color when heat is applied. For example, beef and other red meats I need help discerning when they get “browned” 50% of the time. How to overcome this set back? Everything has a time at a temperature when it begins to transition, so I cook by time and smell mostly. Which is why smoking foods is easy for me. Picking out my own clothes can be challenging. My solution? 98% of the clothes that are in my closet are black in some variation. All of my underwear are black. All of my socks are black. All of my boots and shoes are black. Both of my hats, cowboy and baseball, are black. My watch, wallet, belt, and even my wedding ring are black as well. However, I take my wife’s word for it if she tells me a color looks good on me if we are shopping. Colored or white shirts stand out in my closet trust me. So, y’all might ask if I like the color black and my answer is that the color black is easy. One cannot not mis-coordinate the color black, at least not in my world. I do have my fair share of camouflage as well, but that just goes where I live and what my hobbies are.

So, my advice to any one of y’all who feel your curiosity is warranted, justified, or just cute, just remember how a chair to the face will feel because that is how you make me feel. I’m not here on planet dirt to be someone’s parlor game or freak-show. If y’all want shit like that then go visit your local Walmart for fun. Does it suck being color blind? Not for me because I don’t have anything to compare it to. Last reminder. Chair. Face. Last bit before I close. It has been brought to my attention that the colors on my blog are all jacked up and sometimes it is hard to see. I know this, but that isn’t how I see it.

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The Places My Combat Boots Have Seen

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A natural choice of footwear for me is my last remaining pair of Air Force issued combat boots. I have had many pair of combat boots over the years, starting back in 1988. I don’t remember them all, but there are a few that stand out in my mind because of what I was doing when I was wearing them. Currently I have only one pair left out of my collection as I have had to retire so many before it. My very first pair of issued combat boots were in United States Air Force BMT (Basic Military Training). I recall the thoughts of how uncomfortable they felt on my feet since I was in the habits of wearing my cowboy boots which were worn, haggered, stunk like shit, but were the most comfortable boots (shoes) I have ever worn. My new pair of boots were rigid, stiff, and lace up. I can’t remember how to tie my boot at first, I had to watch other new airmen as they laced and tied their boots, as I haven’t had to tie a shoe in a long time, in fact I couldn’t really remember a specific time when I tied a shoe last. I was at a loss. I was going to get kicked out on my first day because I couldn’t tie a shoe, I guess that is what I get for wearing boots for as long as I could remember. I went from owning 2 pair of shoes, cowboy boots & flip flops, to a single pair of combat boots. I better learn fast I thought, I better learn fast. I knew I was excited, this was my first day as a soldier.

After successfully completing BMT and Technical school in Denver Colorado it was noticed that my boots did not fair so well, it was time to get a new pair. Of course, I was told to wait until I got to my first base, Misawa AB Japan, where I was told I would be issued another pair as part of my in-processing. When I got to Japan I was impressed, they don’t mess around when it comes to boots, I was issued 4 pair, two summer weight and two winter weight (insulated) pair, also, I was issued my first pair of mukluks since it was winter in full force in Japan just days after Christmas. Everyone knows that if your feet are cold, your whole body is cold. I wish I would have known that before I got to Japan. How in the hell am I supposed to know how to deal with snow, I’m from Houston in southeast Texas. In late 1990 I was given orders to go to Turkey in support of what will become to be known world-wide as Desert Storm. Time to let go of the snow and the black combat boots, it was time to get introduced to desert styles. The military has a boot to fit most functions, most terrains, and most weather. This was a long 6 months for me, it was the first time I had to remind myself to do the right thing whether anyone is looking or not. I watched people lose focus, make mistakes, and basically ruin their career, I didn’t want to be that guy. I was also involved in the Liberation of Kuwait where I got to see for the very first time in person, up close and personal, the destruction that was causes. Most people think war is a physical element of destruction because we can see physical damages. I saw things beyond that, I walked over the remains of what appeared to be a family caught by surprise as a bomb that was dropped exploded just outside their house. Walking across them was an accident and when I realized what it was I had stepped on I was a bit shocked, it hurt me to see them. Our team leader explained to me that they were not “my” problem and we must move on since we were in the process of locating an area to set up shop. After that day I never wore those boots again.

Soon enough I returned to Japan to finish out the remainder of my tour. After a few years I left Japan and headed to Iceland. Unfortunately I was only in Iceland a matter of a few weeks as I was diverted to be stationed at Holloman Air Force Base, New Mexico. I already had some experience living in the desert so the transition to a zero humidity environment wasn’t that hard on my system.  From New Mexico I would truly see the world beyond what I knew. I visited many places for many reasons doing my assigned job. Leaving became easier over the years, it was the coming home that was hard to do. In mid summer 1995 I was sent to Osan AB Korea to assist in the inspection of some specific munitions components which had been in long term storage. It was time to determine if they were still serviceable and if so prep them for shipment to a variety of bases world-wide. 18 months later I rotated back to the world to be reunited with my family in New Mexico. Things were not good at home, but that is another story, in fact I think I have written about it here once or twice.

In late 1998 I was in Las Vegas Nevada for the 3rd or 4th time for training and I was given orders to go an undisclosed area for the initial drive of what will become known as Operation Desert Fox. My views had really changed about the United States’ role in the world and it really impacted how I performed, I turned off the emotion, I turned off the feelings, and I just did my job. This would be the first deployment I did not get issued fresh boots, probably because of the timeline, who knows. However, when I got back there was a shiny new pair waiting for me. Well, they weren’t shiny yet, but they would be in no time. Eventhough I had a grunt job, I worked in and out of warehouses, a variety of shops, drove a variety of equipment, and walked everywhere as well, two things were always important, a persons attitude and a persons appearance. The first thing a person notices, unfortunately, is a dirty pair of boots, we always were cleaning our boots, making sure they were taken care of and shined with a reflection that rivaled most mirrors. I eventually left the Air Force, I was medically retired due to previous injuries which happened while active duty. I had no idea what being label a disabled veteran meant. I had no idea how I was going to function in the outside world. I was divorced by this time, a single parent to my daughter who didn’t know what civilian life was all about and I had all but forgot. Luckily my dad was there to catch me, offered me and my daughter a place to call home, and gave me a job working with him in his concrete contractor business. Not knowing any better, on my first day of work, I laced up a pair of my steel toed combat boots. Eventually I traded them in for a pair of work boots, finally no laces!

I always fall back to the combat boot as a boot to wear when I know my feet will be in an unruly environment. After the Air Force, my combat boots continued to see service protecting my feet from the elements and my daily life. I have one pair that has been bitten by two different snakes and has seen more blood of animals killed in the hunt than most shoes should ever have to endure. These boots are my “go to” boots. Over this past weekend I was getting dressed to go weed-eat the perimeter of my fence-line. When overgrown like was, it is a fairly dangerous place for feet because one doesn’t know what is in the tall grass. As I laced up my boots Sunday morning I found myself remembering what I wrote about here today. Interesting how a single pair of boots can trigger memories both good and bad. I wore them without incident, I don’t bother cleaning them anymore, I just knock off the big clumps, and then hang them back on the hook, ready for the next time they will serve me well.

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