I’m new to blogging. So if I’m all over the place bear with me. I have many thoughts I’d like to express and need to organize them in my head. This has been a long time coming. I am using a pseudonym in order to explore cutting edge topics.
I’ve experienced many things…have encountered many types of people. I consider myself a chameleon, change with the moment, carry out unspeakable task without anyone knowing I’d rather not be bothered, or it ain’t that great but make you feel like you’re the best at your game. I’ve practiced my poker…not cards but for the games in life.
The shell I’ve built around my feelings has sheltered me from many mishaps, mistakes, errors in human judgement and my philosophy of going for the gusto…seizing a moment that may never happen again. Those gusto moments, however, have occurred more often than I could have imagined.
I’ll venture into one such moment that comes to mind.
When I was in my early twenties, a struggling college student, supporting myself and paying my own tuition, rent, food, the necessities of living. I met this radio personality who was a hound dog, if you get my drift. He wooed me, nothing spectacular, not even a restaurant meal, MacDonald’s after a movie.
He decided I was great eye candy for a dance hall event he was having. He told me, in confidence, that although it was being advertised as a charity event it wasn’t. He and his buddy were pocketing the money in order to live high on the hog at a fancy hotel for the upcoming annual basketball tournament.
This tournament was the event of every year…anyone who was someone was there. Rooms booked the day after the event ended. Students from up and down the coast, alumni from all the schools involved came from all across the country. You were lucky if you got a room in a hotel within a 50 mile radius of the center. It was a fashion show. A be seen event for 3 days and nights. Students would pack 6 to 8 in a room to be able to afford the trip, food and game tickets. I had been one of those students the year before. Slept on the floor with only a cheap thin towel as a pillow.
The dance hall event had been on the radio, of course…he did the afternoon show. He and his buddy wanted me to help work the door. “Wear something sexy” he said, as me fondled my breast. I nodded an affirmative, gave him a faint smile that he read as an approval of his gesture with my breast. When I turned to walk away, he patted my ass. My first instinct was to turn and slap his face, but I thought no…he’ll pay in another way.
The night of the event arrived. I dressed provocatively. I used my best perfume given to me from my aunt for my twentieth birthday. My platform wedges, my tight bell bottom jeans. He was pleased. He patted my ass and gave me a kiss of approval. I played to his moment as his damn dick pressed against my thigh. As he leaned in he whispered; “tonight baby.” Once again I gave him the faint smile and he was pleased.
The dance hall was packed. Folks from all around, brought their bottles of whiskey, paid for ice and soda set-ups along with the cover at the door. That was my job. To stand at the door, collect the money while he flirted, bumped and grind the more endowed single ladies who’d come unaccompanied. The doors were shut at 11, my job was done. A waitress walked over, handed me an envelope. On the outside was scribbled; “thanks a bunch a little something-will call tomorrow. I headed to the ladies room, waited my turn for a stall. In the privacy of the cubical I open my envelope. Two ten dollar bills and a coupon for a McDonald’s berger. Yep, he’d ditched me for a new ass to pat. Which was just fine with me. I scurried from the ladies room, made my way to the exit without being seen by him or his buddy. But before I left my cozy cubical, I removed several hundred dollars that was stuffed in my bra, pockets and panties. I organized the stack of bills into a roll, rubber banded them and slipped it into my knee hi’s, hidden by the large bell bottom of my jeans. There was enough to pay next months rent, buy food and a nest egg for next semesters tuition. I was ahead of the game, my finances in great shape for the first time since being on my own.
Never saw him again during my status as a student. I avoided those places I knew he’d be. But I did see his buddy one sunny afternoon as I stood at the entrance of the a Boeing 737 just inside the the jetway…greeting passengers for their flight to Detroit. He took a double take…I smile and said; “Welcome aboard, sir'” It was a defining moment for me, in many ways.