I met LC the night she first started working. She was so nervous that she vomited before taking the stage to get naked for a room full of drunken PLs. She was absolutely gorgeous and an incredibly nice girl. Little did I know what torment lay behind those beautiful brown eyes nor did I envision the bizarre ride I was about to take. Sometimes reality for a stripper is much shittier than the SS stories they dish out. As LC slowly brought me into her secret world we became very close friends OTC. Over the ensuing year we provided each other with comfort and companionship while we both impatiently waited for fate to deal the next card. When our cards finally fell mine was one of good fortune, hers was not. Life isn't fair and wanting it differently didn't change the reality. In a moment of shared sadness she told me that she had a vision that we would one day reunite. We clung to that hope and went our separate ways. Loneliness became her relentless demon and soon she was spiraling down into an ugly world that exists behind the stripper pole. Bad turned to worse as she moved from club to club, city to city, and loser BF to abusive loser BF. Somewhere along the way she began chasing the dragon. Today is the anniversary of her death from an OD. She died alone and I wish I had been there for her. I wish that life was fair. She deserved better.
Tonight I'll quietly remember her smile and once again toast her memory with her favorite drink – Jack with a Coke back.
Posted in loving memory of LC.
GSWx4 Inter urinas et faeces nascimur. Dum vivimus vivamus.
Latin tags? I'm starting to think strip clubs attract intellectuals.