Posts Tagged ‘prostitution’

The First John

December 21st, 2012 2 comments

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I’d met him once before in passing, but he was mostly a stranger. He was in his mid-50s. A bit on the sloppy side, but not dirty. A little pudgy. Working in the sun had darkened his skin and faded his irises, but his hair had always been a dusty brown. He was balding a little on top, and wore what he had left in a way that reminded me of those monks who shave just the tops of their heads. Alcohol and cocaine (taken nasally) had aged his face in a way that made him look like a soft, stupid man much older than his years, and he took advantage of that when he could.

When my ex got us kicked out of every place I’d found for us to stay, he talked me into staying with the first truly sexually open person I had ever met in all of my 18 years. I met the woman for the first time the moment she opened her front door. A friend dropped me off with our kids and all our things…but not my ex. He was staying somewhere else. It was the practical thing to do since we didn’t have a car and his job was an hour away.

My ex is an “out of sight, out of mind” kinda guy. It really doesn’t matter how long he’s away from the “object of his affection”. The second he can’t see you anymore, he’s forgotten his obligation to you. It wasn’t long before we broke up because I found out he was cheating on me. Again. Heard it on the radio, even. The chick, who thought he was dating only her, dedicated a song to him.

His friend (we’ll call her B) let me stay, asking only that I help take care of the house and her kids, but eventually, the strain of three extra mouths (and two diapered butts) became too much for her husband to bear alone. So I started looking for a job.  Read more…

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I told my sister I was a prostitute.

December 20th, 2012 1 comment

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I don’t really know my baby sister. I made the final move out of my parents’ house when she was just 11-years-old.

At the time, her favorite color was blue, because Mom’s favorite color was blue. She was in elementary school, and her biggest problems were me and what to wear to dance class. And for some reason that silly little girl looked up to me, even when the “last straw” between Mom and me was how Mom reacted (or didn’t) to Sis slapping me.

Now, she’s 26 and her favorite color is pink. She’s had a kid and she’s divorced. She’s lived in places I’ve never even visited. She was a military wife. Recently, she moved in with her high school crush, and they plan to get married, though she insists they’re not actually engaged. And while “Mommy” is very much a part of who she is, there’s a ton more to the whole.

We’ve been talking more lately, and she just started playing WoW (I’ve yet to really be able to play with them, but hopefully, I will soon!), but the truth is, when I moved out, I wrote her off with my mother. And when I’d call my parents, and they didn’t mention that she wanted to talk to me, I assumed I was right to do so. She doesn’t know me, either, and aside from the memories of a child, all she’s got is whatever my parents have told her. I haven’t asked her what they’ve said.  Read more…

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