It's been a long journey. It will continue to be. Although most of my scars are gone, but I still don't feel quite back to where I was.
I started working at the club a couple weeks ago. I'm playing bartender. I wear tank tops and for some reason have a hard time hearing everyone. I have to lean into them. For some reason the men seem to think if I do this, talking to my chest makes it easier for me to hear. It doesn't but I heard them well the first time. I'm just looking for tips. I want to pay back my dad. He helped me so much while I was in the hospital.
What happened?
According to my brain, nothing. My memories of the incident were removed from my little brain, plus about a week. Sure, some of it is remembered in bad 70's Polaroid in my head, but for the most part, I have to take other people's words for it.
They tell me I had just walked out of the club in late April when I heard a pop. The next thing I knew I was waking up in the hospital with Mr. Mann sitting next to me. He had my hand. I remember squeezing it and he smiled. I remember the next day, or a week later, the Boy was there. He was talking to an older man I didn't recognize.
In the ensuing months, I learned to eat again. I like to say I had an eating disorder as I put a spoonful of mash potatoes into my ear. I still remembered how to walk, which was nice, but my balance was and is off. That is why I am the bartender. I can use the bar to prop me up, and prop up my boobs. I'll survive. I'll be dancing again soon. I just have to remember to not let go of the pole.
His name was Jack. At least, that is what he told us his name was. The police sill haven't caught him. I remember he had just started becoming a regular at the club. He wasn't a good tipper and his conversation revolved around the weather. He is what we call a time killer. You invested a little time into him until you saw someone with cash. It made him feel observed, and we had something to do.
Why did he do it?
I would like to ask him. But, like I've said, the police have not found him yet. Someday, I'm sure I'll get to ask him. But until then, I'll work on staying vertical (I haven't turn my attention to getting horizontal yet, but will soon). Anyway, at least I am blessed with friends who have stood by me and helped me. I love them all.
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The Stripper Philosopher Adventures of Guy No
AdventureGuy is a girl. She's young, feisty, and quite well read. She works as a stripper to pay her bills, while trying to find the meaning of life. On the rebound from getting dumped by her long-term girlfriend, she finds herself the target of an assassina...
