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farmerart

During my time on TUSCL there have been several discussion topics about spending big money if a person won a lottery or otherwise came into a windfall of cash. All the usual dreams and fantasies have been mentioned in these threads. When I sold my first company in 2009 it was the equivalent of winning a huge lottery for me. Here is a part of my story, the part dealing with SCs.

Prior to selling that first company I was a pathetic workaholic and it was a complete shock to my system when I suddenly had no work to do. I had been working since I was 15 years old and had never even taken a holiday during my career that had spanned 45 years at that time. There was a 2 year no-compete clause in the sale agreement so I was certain that my time in the oil patch was over. I had already bought a bit of real estate and thought that I would probably direct my energy to enjoying my 3 homes.

Hah! Fat chance about that. Boring doesn't describe it. Soon I got into all the big boy toys. Fast cars. Nice boat. Off road quads. Honkin' huge snow machines. Nifty tractor for my farm. High tech man cave and entertainment centre. Greenhouse. The list went on and on and on. Then came high end travel (including a NetJets share), fine dining and expensive booze, stupid shopping. Today, it is embarrassing to see all this.

On a trip to Seattle I innocently dropped into a SC in Everett, WA. The club was Honey's. It was the first SC that I had ever visited in my life. Honey's was closed shortly after my visit. It was a disgusting dive populated by dancers furiously peddling extras. This was quite an eye-opener for a rural Canadian hillbilly but I dived right in and sampled the delights of a couple of Honey's dancers. Bingo! I was instantly hooked on the underworld of the hard core SC culture. Here was something that could consume some of my big pile of cash.

Sadly, the clubs where I live are nothing like Honey's. That didn't stop me from spending several 1000s of dollars trying to duplicate my Honey's experience in my 'beloved' Alberta clubs. No dice apart from 4 OTC escapades (expen$ive). Internet surfing brought me to TUSCL. I was saved! TUSCL pointed me to Honey's-like clubs all over USA and eastern Canada. I was salivating like a rabid dog, planning a serious assault on these clubs during a long west-to-east trip across North America.

First part of my scheme was buying a Prevost motorcoach. I had it all tricked out like a rock star groupie fuck bus, spending more than $1.25mil on the wretched machine. I had greedy visions of filling this monstrosity with compliant strippers from Arnie's or Bogart's or Cannonball as I wended my way through the American mid-west and southern Ontario. To be honest, the coach was very plush inside and I was quite pleased when I took delivery of the monster.

During my oil patch career I had driven most every heavy vehicle known to man, including multi-axle semis pulling B-trains. I naturally assumed that I would have no trouble manoeuvring the Prevost. When I took delivery of the bus, I stocked it up for my long trip and, arrogantly, set off down the road. How stupid I was, not even any driving practice around my farm or on the familiar roads of Alberta. Off I went from central Alberta on my grand SC adventure.

The highways and interstates of the first part of my trip presented no problems. The bus was sweet to drive and even sweeter to live in as I stopped at truck stops or other rest stops on the first part of my journey. My first SC visit was planned for Fargo, ND. I pulled off the Interstate and made my way to the club. Disaster struck at the first right hand turn that I attempted on a city street. You guessed it.......I didn't swing wide enough and had an unfortunate encounter with a light standard. CRUNCH! SCREECH!! I didn't bring down the light standard but I did peel back a 3m strip of the Prevost's outer skin. What a fuck-up! Fargo cops didn't really know what to do. Nobody was injured. My Alberta driver's licence was good for the bus. I was stone cold sober. By some miracle the light standard was undamaged. I did get a ticket for making an unsafe turn. I jerry-rigged a half-assed repair on the Prevost's ripped aluminum and got back on the Interstate. Never did make it to that Fargo SC.

For the rest of my cross-continent trip I parked the monster bus outside of any city that I wanted to visit and rented a car for city travel. Not one single stripper ever set foot in my fancy fuck bus. When I made it back to Alberta I immediately sold the Prevost. I am ashamed to admit that I lost $600K when I sold the bus. What a dolt I turned out to be over that stupid bus.

The rest of my SC trek was just fine. I met many 'willing' dancers and I gained much knowledge about our hobby. I spent lots of money on that trip but nothing like what I lost on the sale of the bus. Most of the big boy toys are gone. Just 1 house remains in my hands. I got back in business in 2011 and I quit hitting SCs so hard. I did meet a dancer that I have called Toronto Sweetie. She and I took some very mellow holidays together to Hawaii and Europe. I dropped some major coin for those holidays with Toronto Sweetie but that was all finished a year and a half ago when Toronto Sweetie dumped me for a straight life.

Apart from the stupid bus, I have no regrets about all that money I spent during my retirement after the sale of my first company. In the big scheme of things that amount of money turned out to be mere peanuts for me. However, I will kick my own ass until the day that I die over the Prevost.