Speaking Of People Watching ……..

Okay boys and girls I have a little adventure to tell you about. Very recently I found myself at the mall with my wife, my birthday present to her was not actually a present, it was a trip to her favorite stores to pick out clothes she has wanted. The longer we are married the harder it is to get gifts for special occasions. Some of y’all might actually feel the same way, plus giving someone a gift blindly is very hit or miss, what they liked yesterday may have very well changed overnight. So, I have a bad habit, I don’t buy gifts, we go places or do something or in this case we made a special trip to the mall. In general, my wife was a little confused, for the first time I wasn’t clear about the budget, sure I had one in mind since going over the budget would have cut into the bill paying. Nevertheless, I told her that she had free reign, she knows the bank account and so forth and I knew she would “shop responsibly” in the end. Plus, as a direct bonus to me, I was there to help pick out new summer attire, that is if she actually buys anything. Usually, whether for work or for street clothes, I always get to go because she wants my “opinion”. Oh well, its just the way it is.

The first place she goes into is Victoria’s Secret, a store in my opinion which has gone seriously down hill because everything is geared toward the “teen” and everything has become tame and lame. I understand business, but I remember the Victoria’s Secret from back in the day when I was dating my ex, and it rivaled Fredrick’s of Hollywood at the time. So, the moral of the story is that if you want “trashy” lingerie you need to shop at Zone D Exotica or buy it online. How can a person buy lingerie, in general, online? Anyhow, we go in because she “needs” (wants) new bras and Victoria’s secret has convinced her over the years that she can only wear their brand bras because of her figure. At least that is the line I’ve heard from them and my wife repeat. Ok, she’s 5’2″, about 115#, where’s a size 2, and sports 36DDDs. I joked with her the other day because she was feeling her age, and in a complimentary fashion I mentioned that I haven’t noticed her age because the boobs are still rockin’ all on their own. She tells me one day they won’t be that way, yea, but that day is not today! In the store she picks out a few sets of varying colors, I know this because she tells me as we go along. I don’t personally care what they look like, however I don’t care for the padded ones since she doesn’t need help squishing the boobs out. I can always convince the employees that I need to be in the fitting room with her because she cant come out to show me and model the lingerie. In 17 years I have been told no only once, and that just turned into selfie after selfie after selfie. Other husbands sit outside, looking very uncomfortable sitting in the pink and white striped boudoir chair, holding her purse, and keeping the small children in line. So, we found one bra and panty set that she was happy with, she tried on 14 sets and some more singles. I’m not complaining, I enjoy the show, in fact I love the show, I was just saying. We wait in line, pay the $72.89, and we exit happily.

She wanted some new jean shorts, tank tops, and a new bikini. I don’t know that all of those things can be purchased in one store, but we were going to give it a shot. She likes Hollister so we started there, not my favorite store, clothes are more for the teen with an assload of daddy’s money. But, she likes their jeans and jean shorts. Being familiar with this store as she comes here allot, I know that when its time to try on everything that is there barely enough room for one person, so I know I will be riding the imitation plastic leather couch, holding her purse and the remainder of the clothes. How do you try on clothes in a 2’x2′ closet anyway? She was put in the room right by the end of the couch, I could touch the door handle I was so close. One thing I hate about this store is the over abuse of perfumes and colognes people wear in a confined space. Makes my eyes water, not good when I wear contacts. Reminds me of the VIP rooms at a strip club, mixed perfumes, mixed sweat in the chairs, spilled alcohol on the floor, it generally has such a musk that it reminds me of a funeral parlor where all of the older ladies feel they must bath in their preferred scent as if to compete with all of the others. I like a lite pleasant smell, one you don’t notice until you are close to the nape of the neck, y’all know what I’m talking about. Then, BOOM, she walks out in a pair of these jean shorts that are very tight, very short, yet still tasteful enough because her vagina isn’t eating them and spilling out the leg holes. Impressive! My wife does not get into the whole “if it zips it fits” craze. She prefers comfortably snug. She tries on a few more, same style, different colors, they all look fine enough to me, but that’s not the answer we are looking for and I know it, so I go for the white pair and the blue jean pair, both show off her tanned legs nicely. Holy fuck! Two pair of shorts were $93.89 and we still weren’t done, off to the Guess store, a personal favorite of mine.

The Guess store was an utter clusterfuck with the summer sale going on, shit everywhere it wasn’t supposed to be, employees talking and texting instead of helping people out. Luckily for us, the bathing suit section hadn’t been raped and ransacked yet, well not real bad in my opinion. She picks out three that she likes and one I was fond of because it was different. She hates all of them after trying them on, looking to old ladyish for her taste. At this point in time she talks me into driving to Galveston, about a 50 minute drive for us, to go suit shopping, she wants to go back to a place she bought hers for our trip to Florida a few years back. Sure, why not, I was done with the mall anyway. We load up her bags in the trunk of the Mustang and head to the Strand, a section of Galveston that has existed since the 1800s, now its mostly shops, bars, and restaurants. While driving through Houston in average Houston traffic, meaning it was steady and thick but moving at about 75mph, my wife slips off the jeans she is wearing, surprise for me, and slips on her new white shorts after cutting the tags off. I didn’t even see her bring them into the car. Ever want to make the women in the car next to you on the passenger side blush? Have your wife changing in the car doing 80 mph passing an SUV with the woman and her boys in the back seat gawking. We arrived safely to Galveston, park, pay, and off we are walking.

She spots a few tanks in the window of the surf shop we were walking by and pulls me inside to go check them out. She was looking for the kind one wears sans bra, its a special kind from what she tells me, got a liner in it so the person wearing it isn’t pointing at everyone looking like she is smuggling raisins. I’m good either way. This is a giant store, there are racks after racks after rack of bathing suits, even the female employees were wearing tiny little bikinis. I like this place already. It was amazing to watch the guys in the store that were there with their wives, girlfriends, friends, or significant others. While watching them watching the tiny bikini clad girls walk around, bending over with straight legs, and stretching to the point that the material of their tops was at the point of failing, which would be catastrophic, boobs everywhere if it happens., I noticed that they also were selling margaritas and daiquiris, bonus. Cheap as well, I don’t prefer frozen margaritas but two giant one’s served in a souvenir style cup with a really crazy straw was only eight bucks. I hand my wife hers and away we go to start the hunt. She picked out one style she liked, only one suit too, and without showing it to me on the hanger she disappears into the changing room. I meandered over, giving her time to wiggle out of her closes and wiggle back into the suit she is trying on. She pulls the curtain back far enough for me to tie the strings on the back for her. She closes the curtain, and we know why, she needs the time to “adjust” everything so there is nothing hanging out that shouldn’t be. The curtain rips open! There she stands, my tanned wife in a white bikini, she is looking slick, she spins in the mirrors outside the changing room, and I guess she decides she is not liking it after all. I’m instructed to stand there and guard her “stuff” while she gets another. Remember I was talking about the guys in the store, well, they aren’t shy about staring, not even a little subtle, but then again, I was pleasantly watching her walk away as well. I see an employee, half her age, helping her out, pointing around and so forth, and then my wife returns. I was told she didn’t care for the first one, the bottoms felt like they were sliding inside her and she feared a very revealing cameltoe. So, she explained she was looking for “cunt huggers” not “cunt eaters” like the one she just tried on. She gets a dirty potty mouth at all the appropriate times, but I saw her point, trust me. She finds one that makes her happy, I never got to see it either, I was told it will be a surprise. While doing a secret check out, hiding it all from me, the same employee who was helping her began talking with my wife again. Apparently she is the manager of the store and thinks my wife has some talents that she would like to employ. Yes, she offered her a job on the weekends. The pay wasn’t bad, $20 an hour plus tips, part time, no benefits, but 80% of clothing in the store as long as she was an employee. Also, she would be able to use my veteran’s discount for an additional 10% off. My wife is actually considering it, she thinks it will be fun, she likes the uniform, and she thinks she would be a help to the older crowd who are a bit shyer in their needs. She has to call her by this Friday afternoon if she wants to give it a shot this weekend.

So now we walk around some more, stopping in at many more island shops, drinking many more margaritas, and finally we got back in the car, not to go home, but to head to the seawall to park so we could go walk the beach for a while. There was a beautiful sunset, we watched the sun slowly but surely descend into the depths of the horizon. Feeling hungry we walked over to a seafood place, I cant remember the name tho for some reason, but we went in, it was very laid back, had classic rock playing relatively load, but it was the coziness of it that made it a cool environment. We ordered, we ate, we talked, talked allot about this summer and what we wanted to do, we are going to San Antonio for the 4th of July weekend, which I already knew, since it is going to be my father’s day present from the kids. To sum it all up, it was nice to go out alone with my wife, something that is very rare anymore, but this is something we both committed to change starting right then. Fine with me, that’s why I married her, to spend time with her, to be able to do things together. There are many more reasons of course, but we wanted a life together to do things together. Also, we discussed the upcoming concerts for the rest of the year, told me to pick three or four so we could go. Has my wife received a headwound? She is volunteering to see rock concerts? Nice. I mentioned our vacation to Florida two years ago, I was doing something with the kids and I get a text from my wife with this picture attached, asking me if I would join her on the beach for a walk. What do y’all think my answer was?

Welcome To Florida My Friends

From Behind My Green Eyes

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.

USDA Is Playing Secret Santa

While the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) sounded a lot like Scrooge this year by threatening to cut nutrition assistance for low income women and children, it was behaving like a secret Santa to special interests spreading good cheer and taxpayer dollars through the Specialty Crop Block Grant Program. Here are more than a few other examples how the program spent $50 million to ring in the holidays early in 2013.

Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree. Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Clause. And the Virginia Christmas Tree Growers Association is one of the six projects involving Christmas trees that was funded. These included shearing, marketing and promoting Christmas trees. The program also supported at least five ornamental plant initiatives, including a project to “to increase consumers’ awareness and preference for Florida-grown ornamental plants by investigating determinants of consumer purchasing behavior such as personal health and wellness benefits and environmental and economic benefits and by developing contextually relevant marketing strategies to increase plant sales” and another to support seminars on ornamental plants at the South Carolina Nursery and Landscape Association conference.

Visions of Sugar plums Dancing in Their Heads. The Specialty Crop Block Grant Program had a sweet tooth for sugar producers this year and gave the plum growers reason to dance. The California Dried Plum Board received taxpayer dollars “to enhance the market for” prunes in Japan and South Korea. Funding was provided for “developing and implementing a comprehensive social media marketing campaign” for the Vermont Maple Sugar Makers’ Association, “organizing and promoting a Maple Weekend including a recipe contest, tours of sugarhouses, restaurant participation, and promotional activities” with the Massachusetts Maple Producers Association, and partnering with the Michigan Maple Syrup Association “to increase the profitability of Michigan maple syrup producers by developing planting stock for new sugar bushes with a higher sap sugar”.

Global Santa Tracker. Just like Santa with his bag full of toys, the USDA Specialty Crop Block Grant Program traveled around the world this year spreading joy, with more than ten grants paying for international junkets. These included conducting the “USA Pear Road Show” in China, sending representatives from the Oklahoma Pecan Growers Association to international tradeshows, bringing wine connoisseurs from China to Washington state, supporting the participation of Puerto Rican coffee producers in the Specialty Coffee Association of Europe trade shows, hosting seminars on “cooking with pistachios and prunes” in Japan and South Korea, putting on “meetings, product showcases, trade tastings, and educational seminars” for Oregon producers in Asia, facilitating a bean grower field day in Mexico, supporting attendance at domestic and international trade shows for Michigan groups and companies, and assisting with a “trade development mission” to Vietnam, the Philippines and Hong Kong.

Holiday Wine and Spirits. Santa may enjoy a glass of milk with cookies to get him through a busy evening of delivering holiday gifts and cheer, but the Specialty Crop Block Grant Program showed a preference for wine. The program funded 35 wine related projects this year. These included creating two smart phone apps to help “navigate to the next winery,” promoting wine trails and sales, improving wine tasting room satisfaction, and developing a West Virginia wine trail publication, and hosting a Wine Pavilion at the South Dakota State Fair.

Making a List and Checking It Twice. When making a list of duplicative government programs, the Specialty Crop Block Grant Program is sure to be on it at least twice since it mirrors in many ways at least two other USDA programs, the Market Access Program and Value Added Producer Grants. While not all of the projects funded by the Specialty Crop Block Grant Program were wasteful, nearly all were eligible for funding from other federal programs making the program unnecessary. The largest proportion of grants was provided for marketing and promotion, such as social media for strawberries and a YouTube video about the proper handling of watermelons.

The Partridge in a Pear Tree: The “USA Pear Road Show,” promoting pears as far away as China, was one of the two pear related projects funded this year by the Specialty Crop Block Grant Program. While a flight to China was included, no partridge was actually involved in either project.

Information found for this “Your Tax Dollars @ Work” post was done by using a Google search. Information compiled from multiple public websites & media outlets.

The Obamacare Exchange

This information was original found @ YouViewed.com and with many attempts to reblog the post and failing attempts I decided to borrow the picture/chart because I really wanted to share it. Please visit YouViewed.com for the original article in it’s entirety.

A People Trap

Found In Lake City Florida

Shattered Dreams

This entry is provided by KL who lives in Bunnell Florida. He states he is in his mid 30s and travels most of the state of Florida for his employment. He didn’t state what he does for a living except that it keeps him gone 6 days a week. Since he travels so much it has left him little time for romance and his mother and friends keep telling him to settle down so he doesn’t die a lonely old man. He started to fulfill what he thought was a dream by getting on Christian Mingle. He went thru the normal steps and follow ups and found his perfect match. Now that the minor background has been defined I leave the rest for KL to tell. Hold on, this one has a few twists and bumps in the road.

About a year ago is when this all occurred for me. I had grown tired of being taunted and teased all the time by friends and family that I would never find love and that I would never get married. It all sat really hard with me because I’m now 36 and have no life other that travel and work. I had become discouraged with Facebook because it didn’t seem like any of the singles my age were interested in anything except extra-marital affairs and I didn’t want to get mixed up in that at all. With the advice of my mother I created an account on Christian Mingle and loaded up my profile. In the beginning my inbox stayed empty, then I would get the empty conversations, and after about a year I began corresponding with a woman my age named Ashley. We seemed to both have quite a bit in common and she says she wouldn’t mind my traveling. We didn’t live too terribly far apart, with her north of Orlando and myself in Bunnell.

After the usual talking on-line through the site we saw trust within one another and exchanged cell phone numbers so we could talk while I was on the road. After about a month of texting and talking she started sending me pictures of herself. They started off with her being fully clothed, then in bikinis, then erotic lingerie, and finally just her in her birthday suit. I have to admit, she was stunning to look at and I could not wait to meet her in person. I sent her only one picture of myself compared to like 60 she sent to me. Mine was simple, just me fishing from the beach one summer. She really had my attention. Eventually we made arrangements to meet in a central location to both of us and at a place that was neutral for both of us as well. She knew allot about Daytona Beach and started listing out hundreds of places we could meet. Finally we settled with meeting at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. restaurant right on Daytona Beach. The weekend was finally here and I packed a small bag with a change of clothes so I was sure to have my bathing suit just in case we decided to actually go down to the water.

On my drive down to Daytona I go a call from Ashley informing me she was already there and since she got there so early she decided to get a room at a local motel off the beaten path by the beach. I agreed to meet her there as we both agreed that it might be best to meet for the first time in a not so public forum. She texted me the address and I found myself heading her way. She was definitely right, the motel was off the beaten path a bit and kind of secluded from the view of the street. My anticipation was growing by the moment and I was getting really anxious to get to meet her. When I pulled up I found my way to park in front of the room number she had given me. Being polite, I called her while sitting in my car to announce I was here and coming to the room. She told me it was perfect timing and to come on in because the door was open.

I was raised better than to just barge into someone’s room, so I knocked on the door and waited for her to answer it. The door slowly opened reveling Ashley standing there without a stitch of clothing on her wet, nude body. She apologized for being wet and naked and told me that she had just got out of the shower and heard the knock on the door. I remember thinking that this was odd since I just called her a few minutes ago, but oh well, I’m here now. She grabbed me by my hand, leading me into the hotel, and then she shut the door. That was the last thing I saw, the light just before the door completely closed. I woke up around 7 hours later. I realized at this point that the back of my head was bleeding pretty good. When I got up off of the floor to head to the bathroom to get a towel I realized I was completely naked and completely alone as well. After making my way to the bathroom I looked in the mirror to see I had a black eye and was missing a tooth. Further examination of my body would reveal that I had bruises and small cuts everywhere. Further observations would reveal that all my clothes, my wallet, my cell phone, my keys, and my car were all missing.

I got on the motel phone and called the Daytona Police Department to report the robbery and assault. A male and female officer arrived after about 15 minutes to take me report. I had found a robe tucked in on the top shelf of the closet so I felt a little better. I let them in, the female officer immediately began talking with me writing everything down while the male officer looked around the room and asked neighboring rooms if the heard or saw anything. Then the kicker. I was informed this motel was notorious for being used in prostitution scams and robberies. Shortly after I was read my rights and was told I was being arrested for solicitation of a prostitute. With no identification I was treated like an actual criminal. I was loaded into the car and drove to the police station where I was duly processed in accordance with the law. With my one call I contacted my mother and explained what happened. She said she will call the insurance about the car and bring me my birth certificate to prove my identity. But, she can’t come until the following morning because she doesn’t drive after dark.

So there it is, I spent the night in jail because I got robbed and beaten. I understand the police department’s point of view but what about what really happened, does that even matter. The answer is no actually. After my release I got busy changing locks on my house, luckily they never came here and robbed me here. I called to cancel credit cards and order replacements, as well as getting charges stopped on my bank account. They managed to remove $4679.92 from my bank account as well as spending another $2109.89 at a variety of places, all in a matter of under 24 hours. When I go to Christian Mingle to retrieve what information I saved about Ashley her entire profile was gone, of course. My car was found a few weeks later torched and burnt to the ground in Las Vegas Nevada. After my insurance claim went through I got another car. Since all of this happened most of the money I lost was “refunded” to my new bank account. To my knowledge this is still under investigation because they have never been able to identify who actually did this to me. I don’t personally see it being solved. She is long gone and I helped her get long gone. On a personal note, I have given up on internet dating sites. I will just need to find the right woman for me some other way. I have learned my lesson and wanted to share with people so they don’t go down the same lonely road that only leads to despair and agony.

Note: The images used in this story were provided by me. I found them on the internet via a quick Google Images search in a public domain.

Never "Pounce" The Messenger

Originally Posted To: Hate Mail on 12 June 2013

You want funny? After posting the story “The First Impression” I got an e-mail from a very angry mother demanding I provide her with the full name of A.K. so she can protest her employment to the execs at Disney World. She used some colorful language about me and A.K. that I will post here momentarily after I say a few words. I gave an understood promise that I would withhold all names in the stories passed upon to me. I plan on upholding my part of the deal. Eventhough these stories night be tall tales or well elaborated I still take into consideration to post them as they appear in my in-box and that will never change. I do respect the opinions of the people who read my blog. However, people need to respect me by understanding that these are my blogs. I don’t write or post things for fame or fortune, I post for fun and to share the world around me. Every single person makes a choice coming to my blogs and they are free to make the choice to leave as well, no harm, no foul. So, on to her e-mail.

 

 

“Mr. Scorpion Sting,

 

 

I found your post about the girl who plays the character of Tigger at Disney World very distasteful. I would think that a father of three and grandfather of one that you would be able to see the disturbing characteristics displayed by this slutty girl. By writing this post you have put a smear on  everything about Disney. If she is actually an employee at Disney World it is your obligation to turn her in to the management because she is around small children as well as adults. Do you think it would matter to her if she went around fucking married men or boys under the age of 18? If you do then you are just as sick as this slut. To think that she is as desperate as she stated and is using her position for her own sexual pleasures. I understand that there is dating in the workplace, with customers, and visitors, but Scorpion, even you should be able to see that the behavior is grossly inappropriate for where she works. The story put images in my head which I can’t get out now. We recently made a trip to Disney World and we have many pictures of our family with Tigger. If I would have read this story before I would have never ever let any of the characters near my husband, kids, or myself since I would have been fearful that Tigger was sizing us up for a pouncing.

 

 

As I sit here, looking at all of the pictures we had with Tigger I am forced to wonder if A.K. is in the suit and what she is thinking. You might consider taking down this post because I see big trouble coming for you. I am planning to write to the executives of Disney World to inform them they have a slut running around in a Tigger suit and her behavior is unspeakable. My letter would make more of an impact if I had this girl’s real name so they can properly remove her from employment. I ask nicely this time for you to provide it to me.

 

 

Sincerely,

Alice W.

Eau Claire, WI”

 

 

First, there is no chance in hell I will ever provide anything to anybody without a court order. Fat chance getting that since you don’t have an actual complaint or grievance. I forwarded your e-mail to A.K. and told her to reply to you as she pleases and only if she pleases. I wouldn’t hold your breath. In all fairness I will remind everyone, Alice, that you need to read things like my blogs with a grain of salt. Not everyone tells the truth all the time. According to A.K. her story wasn’t embellished in any way and she is still an employee for Disney World. If nothing else, just understand that we all don’t live the same lives with the same structure as everyone else. I look forward to hearing from you again because I don’t think you are actually done and still need to unload some more bullshit in my in-box. Until we meet again Alice……..Get Off My Tail Unless You Are Going To Stroke It!

Back To The Bar, Afterthoughts From Florida

Originally Posted 07 August 2012

 

My first night back at work was Monday night. I had mixed feelings about going back to work at the club, unfortunately its sorta complicated. It was easy to go back to my day job Monday morning, probably because it is so scheduled, routine, and really laid back. So, it was easy to jump right back in and as I found out I didn’t actually miss too much and I didn’t have too much to catch up to bring it all current again. Working at the club is a bit different, I wasn’t ready to get back into all the drama just yet. Ten days away was nice but another week would have made it better. Its not just all the dramatics, its also the time I put in every night. We did hire new bartenders a while back, three, and they are all trained for the most part now so they don’t need much babysitting any longer. I talked with my boss and told her that I don’t want to work the weekends anymore and I only want to work 6-10 during the week. She kinda gave me a grin and a nod. Why? Because I would go from working 60 hours at my part time job down to around 24 or so, it would cut my hours basically in half. She told me I would miss the money, she is right I would me the 3K a month, but I am willing to overlook it. If something doesn’t change real soon I will be forced to quit altogether because my body just can’t take the abuse any more.

 

I know, sounds like a bunch of whining, but my vacation gave me an opportunity to put some things into perspective from a great distance. I had time to do a great deal of thinking while I was driving. Driving is the perfect opportunity for me to sort thoughts and put things into perspective. So, what did I think about. Well, the big one was about not liking to have to work 2 jobs to make the ends meet and be able to save money. I work alot of hours, and for what, just the money. Money does make the world go ’round, well, at least in my world. Not everyone agrees with it, but the nuts and bolts of it is that in order to have things or do things one needs money. My part time job has provided things and opportunities that I don’t think would have otherwise been available to me or my family. One major thing this job has done was allowed us to have our dream house built and a 30 year mortgage paid off in just under 3 years, which wasn’t a small feat by no means. It has gave me the opportunity to pay off vehicles. It gave me the opportunity to pay cash for a brand new Goldwing. It gave me the luxury of hunting down a Hummer H1 to buy, just so I could say I had one. Hell, for the most part, it paid for the Disney vacation we just got back from. It was nice to throw down cash and be done with it. It was nice not having to say no to my wife and kids because something wasn’t in the budget while on vacation. We did alot and we saw alot on this vacation and I wasn’t worried one bit about over doing it and being strapped for cash when the bills came do. No, I am not bragging, just explaining what the income from this job has provided for myself and my family. I like having money to do things or buy things, it is a great feeling not piling it on one or more credit cards. However, I have socked away more than I have spent, you do the math. I want to be my wife and I to be fully retired by age 50, that is 6 years for me and 12 for my wife. I want our toys bought and paid for, I don’t want any more monthly bills except for utilities. We live pretty much debt free now and after we retire I want to be able to keep it that way. I will have tuition for my middle daughter here in 2 years, and my son in another 7 years. Both are taken care of right now. My daughter wants to go to Texas A & M to become a veterinarian and my son, undecided on a school, just knows he wants to be a structural scientist (which is way too hard to explain, so you will need to Google it).

 

In the end, I have been able to do in 3 1/2 years what many cannot do in an entire lifetime. And yes, I am proud of myself. I am a good saver because I spent way too many years being poor living paycheck to paycheck surviving on ramen noodles every night and always having to tell my family no because we could not afford it. I really hated having to lie to bill collectors and always risking losing something because the payment was late. Perhaps I am looking at this the wrong way entirely. Maybe its my day job that I need to ditch and just press on bartending for the next 6 years, maybe that is the actual answer. Is there actually an answer? Am I wasting my time looking for something that doesn’t actually exist? All I know is this whole floating through life grabbing up stuff while it is available is starting to show its wear and tear on my body.

 

One of the amazing things I saw while in Florida was the large amount of out of state plates on vehicles. We saw plates from 28 other states, Canada, and various places in Mexico. I started wondering what all of them were doing in Florida. Were they “ALL” there on vacation. Were some relocating? Oddly enough while we were in the parks I had a hard time not people watching, I did it alot. I also spent a fair share of time while in close quarters in the lines listened to the conversations going on around me. It seemed at times that my family was the only ones speaking English. Disney World definitely was the point of convergence for world wide vacationers. My family and I blend in real well with the Florida natives, until we talk I guess, the Texas accent would give us away every time. By the time my trip was over and I was looking at Florida thru my rear view mirror, I found myself wondering why people flock to move to Florida. In my own eyes I couldn’t really find a reason for me to move there personally. Other than the humidity there wasn’t much difference in the weather. Hot is hot wherever a person lives in the south. Gas prices were all but identical to where I live. The housing market and prices were similar also. The major difference, the turn off for me, especially in the greater Orlando area was all the tourists. People I talked with, travelers like myself and also residents mentioned that there is a large quantity of tourists year round, not seasonal like I thought. Don’t get me wrong, Florida is beautiful. I especially liked Daytona, it was kind of a sleepy city. I don’t ever see myself as being one of those people who dream of moving to Florida after retirement. Then again, anything could happen.

 

Daytona Beach was an excellent place to people watch. My daughter suffers from the same thing I do, she like to people watch too. Maybe we both have overactive imaginations because together we just have way too much fun doing it. We watched this one man, mid 50ish if I had to guess and this young girl, 18 or 19 at best, joking and goofing off out on the beach. No big deal, my daughter and I are doing it all the time. We had commented how much fun this girl and her dad were having on their day at the beach. We had both commented that my daughter would be dead if she wore the bikini this girl was wearing because it showed more than it covered. I had more lint in my pocket than she was wearing as a bikini. My lint could have made 4 of the bikinis she was wearing with some left over. He had the “stereotypical” 50ish year old dad body. He had the beer gut, the receding hair line, the droopy bathing suit, and so on. But, damn he was tan, like 80’s porn star tan. After a few hours we became bored with them and shifted our attention the the 4 boys building a house size sand castle. Also a fun watch. But then the dad and daughter caught my daughter’s attention again. She was going on…..Dad…..Dad……Dad……Dad…..look over there as she pointed with a look of shock, horror, and disgust on her face. What could be so bad I wondered. Well, lets put this as mildly as I can, they were “making out” in an extreme manner. There was enough groping and grinding to make a passer byer blush while he looked repeated to assure himself he was seeing what he was. It was pretty steamy. It was like watching an episode of “Real Sex” on HBO. We came to the conclusion they probably weren’t related. But then again, what do we know anyway.

 

The places we visited in Florida were not restricted to any particular age group, race, religion, sexuality, or language. It was a bit bizarre but at the same time it gave me an opportunity to see what people from all over the world do for vacation. I used to think a vacation was a “state of mind”, probably because I have never taken an actual vacation before, imagine, me, a vacation virgin. Well, now that I have had my first I can only think what we will do on our next vacation. My family expressed the idea that we need to have a week long vacation every year, if not two. Not a bad idea. I guess it sums alot up for me at this point, keep my bartending job so we can afford future bad ass vacations. Do retired people take vacations? Maybe it would be best to stop my bitching, the work I do is easy as a bartender. In reality the dancers make 80% of the money I get to take home. They perform for cash and I get a portion of the funds they receive, not a bad deal actually. One day this “life” as a bartender will be only a memory that I probably won’t talk about, I am looking forward to it.