Sweet Wine From My Grapevine

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Over the years one thing that has always stood true is the fact that I know allot of people both in and out of the United States Air Force. This comes in very handy as a resource from time to time. Most of the time it isn’t personal, it’s just things people thought I might find interesting. It has also been a valued resource when trying to locate people that can never be matched by none other. Last week I found out some things that shocked the shit out of me because I never, in a thousand years, thought it would happen the way it did. Such is life right, sometimes we get proven wrong beyond our wildest dreams. Before we talk about the fantastically surprising yet fitting news, we must first explore the pre-cursor of the career, the actual career, and the ultimate demise of that career of the woman I will be discussing. So, if you think you are ready then lets kick the tires and light the fires to get this story in the air.

Back in the 90s there was a young mother who didn’t want to work so she struck a deal with her husband. The deal? She decided to go to college to pursue a career as a social worker. She promised her husband that this was a great idea and when he would eventually retire she could be the support for the family. Push forward a few years now. Just prior to receiving her Master Social Worker degree the marriage fell apart and eventually had to be dismantled in the best interests of everyone involved. Push forward even more you say? After getting her LMSW (Licensed Master Social Worker) she applied and was granted entrance into the United States Air Force. Afterwhich she guilted their only daughter into moving out from her father’s house and into her own. Shortly after having the sole custody of father case overturned she had the husband (at least on official government paperwork) declared deceased which granted her special hardship privileges since she was a single mother whom was widowed.

The careerfield she chose was so hard up for people that they waived the age restriction of 35 (she was to turn 35 shortly before entering). She was also provided an enlistment bonus (I won’t disclose how much because it will just piss you off) in exchange for an eight year commitment. She would also start her new career as a Captain (0-3), skipping the rank of 2nd Lieutenant (0-1) and 1st Lieutenant (0-2) altogether. She bit that like she was a ravenous vulture ripping apart a decaying carcass. She made many friends in a variety of positions which always guaranteed that she stayed stateside and most assuredly never having to do a remote or hazardous duty tour due to her hardship status. Time passes and she found it possible to increase her rank another two times, Major (0-4) and finally a very fresh (like under 60 days fresh) new Lieutenant Colonel (0-5). Just imagine with me now, she did all of this within 8 years 7 months and 18 days. There are those of you scratching your heads right now because either you don’t understand how long rank takes to acquire or you do know how long it takes to acquire rank. Either way, it was accomplished at the fucking speed of light.

Recently, she decided to early retire. But wait, it gets better. She retired for FREE because she hadn’t been in long enough to get a retirement of any sort from the Air Force. Wait, it gets even better. Want to know why she got out? She had two long time friends who both recently retired after giving 30+ years of service to the Air Force each. They were the muscle and guarantee that she never had to do a duty she didn’t want to. But, seems just before they retired a little birdie blabbed to the Air Force that not only was she never a widow, but her daughter lives in another state and is a mother herself. Oops. Anyway, her name came up to go to Qatar for 2 years. There was nobody to “save” her from going, so she just quit the Air Force. She has since, within the last month, moved to another state where she can be a private social worker in private practice. She will not even tell her daughter where she is living.

Now, perhaps you are wondering why any of this gossip of a career gone south would make a hill of beans to me. I’ll tell you why, I am the deceased husband. Most of this I already knew over the years, up to the point that she exited the Air Force rather abruptly within the last few months instead of going on the tour to Qatar. I have mixed thoughts about her. In my mind she is still the same back stabbing cunt that led us down the destructive road of divorce. On the other hand it would seem that it was her time to dance with this bitch we all know as karma who also thought she was a cunt and decided to treat her like one. Either way, she loses. No, I don’t win, but man is this some fun shit to watch unfold over the years. Wow, wait until my oldest daughter reads this post. Good thing I already called her.

Travel Trip Grape Stomping

Broken Wings Of A Fallen Angel

Broken Wings Of A Fallen Angel

Charity’s parents were both killed in a head on collision with a teenage drunk driver at the age of 13. Charity had what she called a normal life up until the day they were killed. She attended public school, she was a girl scout with her friends, and enjoyed attending church with her parents every Sunday. She recalls she was named Charity because her parents believed she was a gift from Heaven. Her dad’s nickname for her since she can remember was Angel because she was always told she was daddy’s little angel. Little did she know that her world had just been turned upside down. She was picked up from the babysitter late that night by a social worker who sadly but coldly broke the news to her. When asked, Charity was unable to provide any next of kin, as far as she knew there was none. She spent the next day being processed into the system which she was soon going to be calling home. Later that afternoon she would be greeted by Mrs. Robinson who was going to be taking Charity into foster care. The Robinsons lived in a very nice house, a mansion by comparison to her parent’s house. They went through the very painful ordeal of going to her old house to gather as many of her things that would fit in the van that Mrs. Robinson was driving. It was very fast, the way they moved throughout the house, she remembers that there wasn’t much she wanted to get, in fact she wanted to not take anything because it was going to be an instant reminder of her parents. Right now, at this point, she wanted to forget what was happening. When they got back to Mrs. Robinson’s house she was greeted by Mr. Robinson who seemed to be very quiet and kind of creepy to her. She felt as if he was looking right through her as if she wasn’t actually there. For the following days she got that same feeling. She kept wondering how long she would be here and what was going to happen next. In a quick manner she was put back into school, in fact it was the same school she was already going to. Nobody knew anything except for the assistant principal who arranged for everything to happen. That Saturday she went to the joint funeral for her parents. She slipped a note into her dad’s hands which read, “now you are my Angel”.

She remained in the Robinson home until right after her 15th birthday. The contract with the Robinsons had expired and the state was no longer going to pay them for keeping Charity. She thought this was her home now and the Robinsons were now her parents. With the closing of the car door that was all gone once again. Due to her age she was going to be required to be placed in a group foster home which she quickly found out was also a halfway house from addicts and runaways. She didn’t like this place. The first night she was cornered by an older boy when she was returning from the shower room. He quickly shoved her up against the wall and whispered in her ear that if she made one noise he would kill her and then fuck her bleeding body while it was still warm. She remained quiet, emotionless, and tried not to squirm as she had her virginity raped out of her. When the one boy was done, he let her go and she just hit the floor where she rolled up into a ball to hold herself tightly. She tries not to think about the pain, she tries to block out what just happened. When she opened her eyes there were three more boys standing above her. She tried to get up to run but one of them grabbed her leg and dragged her back. This time she was forced into a storage room. They took turns raping her, two of them would hold her down at a time and then they would switch off. This went on for hours. When they were done with her limp lifeless body that fell to the floor they all began spitting on her at first, then they all began to piss on her face, her heard, everywhere. The ugly one with the scars on his face told this never happened and to make sure it stays that way. If it didn’t, one threatened, that she would simply disappear and nobody would even miss her. She went to her room, bleeding down the inside of her legs, the rest of her dripping in cum, spit, and piss. She decided right then she wasn’t staying here one more second, she was done. She quietly changed clothes and shoved some other clothes in her pack. When the moment was right she left the house and never looked back. She had the $200.00 that Mrs. Robinson had given her for her birthday and she planned on using that money to get as far away from San Antonio as she could. She went to the bus station and found that she could be on a bus to Houston in under an hour for only $38.00 so she bought her ticket. She went to the rest room to clean herself up, she was a mess, inside and out.

She slept the entire way to Houston. She was able to hang out at the station in Houston most of the day. She was able to find food and she was able to sleep a little here and there. After dark the police sweep the station for vagrants and troublemakers. Charity was escorted out of the station and sent on her way with no problems. She was determined to keep her head down low and not draw any attention to herself. She lived on the streets for the next year or so, doing what she had to for food, money, and a place to sleep. She spent most nights going between shelters for woman as she never wanted to be at one place to long. Her first real trouble came just before she was to turn 18 when she got caught shoplifting at mall. However, the manager felt sorry for her and didn’t call the police. The manager made arrangements for Charity to keep the clothes she had stolen by giving her a part-time job to pay it all back. She continued to work there even after her debt was paid so she would have some money to hopefully get out of the shelters. She had made friends with one of the other girls over time and they eventually became roommates. They used to go out trolling for horny guys that were leaving the strip clubs in the area. They would be half ass drunk and be brief sloppy sex but it was helping to pay the bills. Eventually they both entered Club X to see what it was all about. Club X has active recruiters walking the floors and Charity and her friend were soon on the radar. After they were approached and whatever agreement was made they sat around a bit at the bar, watching, taking mental notes, and forging a plan on how they would make their money.

Soon enough the patrons of Club X were introduced to Angel and Persuasion. They were a big hit, new blood, and a whole new show. Almost immediately these two were breaking the rules. Instead of declining offers of money in exchange for sex from the patrons they began accepting them. They were warned of their suspect activity and if they were caught by the management then they would have their jobs terminated. They didn’t head the warnings, they acted as if they really didn’t care about the repercussions in regards to their extra sexual activities. They knew how to fuck better than dance eventhough they also had a great time dancing. They were enjoying the money, the drugs, the liquor, and fucking these dumbass into returning more often so it could start all over again. Ninety-nine percent of the time they would both be having sex with the same guy at the same time. At first it was for safety but after a while they just like it that way. One night Angel (Charity) came into work alone, she began asking around for her friend but nobody had seen her since they left together the night before. A few nights went by before she was approached by two detectives. They spoke for a few moments and then they all three left the club together. Two nights later Charity returned to the club. After her shift of dancing she sat at the bar to have a few drinks and eat a salad when she, out of the blue, began to tell me about a 13-year-old girl who lost her parents in a horrible car accident. I was a little dumbstruck to say the least. What does one say? The conversation didn’t end here tho, she had more to tell about her good friend and room-mate. The two detectives had taken her to the morgue to positively identify her friend. She was found naked in a dumpster with her throat cut and many other knife wounds to her body as well. There was evidence of sexual activity prior to her death but that is all they would say. They said they contacted her because when they found her belongings they also found a driver’s license which led them to their apartment. According to the management Charity was the roommate and could probably be found at Club X dancing. The night she returned to work was the last time anyone saw or heard from Charity.

I have waited a long time to tell this particular story from my time as a bartender because it is a sad story and sad stories bring me down. However, due to the mood I have been in lately I saw no harm in going ahead and writing it all the way out. I am reminded that life for each of us is just a little bit different. Many people have lead a sheltered life and don’t realize that there are troubled people everywhere who have been handed a raw deal in life. I am also reminded that not every story ever told has a remotely happy ending. It is because of this that I enjoy writing because my personal passion is writing about life around me. Part of that life was while I spent many years working at the strip club. I can’t, won’t, and don’t want those memories to go away simply because they remind me not to bitch because my life isn’t so bad.