|Robert and I - Late 80s|
“I really don’t.”
Rick and his muscle men didn’t believe me. My place was rummaged through every week and I was certain my phones were tapped. What little belongings Robert left behind in my apartment, Rick and his boys quickly picked up.
The fact that I was being followed by drug lords didn’t scare me as much as it should have. I was telling the truth so I welcomed their prodding. I felt like I was on a Hollywood set: Drug Dealers and Strippers: The Movie. It never dawned on me, the type of men I was dealing with. I was just happy Robert was gone and at least part of my chaos was dissipating.
It was four in the morning and Robert came home with three strippers in town from Los Angeles. One of the girls woke me up on her way to the bathroom and asked me if I wanted a bump. Realizing I wasn’t going to get back to bed anytime soon, I joined her. She chopped up the coke on the bathroom counter as she peed and I stood there in my boxers and t-shirt rubbing my eyes.
“What are you doing in there?” Robert sounded pissed.
“Keep your shirt on, dude I’m peeing.”
I took a dollar bill and started rolling it, smiling at this strange, loud girl who was peeing in my apartment. We both rolled our eyes at the thought of Robert getting annoyed. He hated when I hung out with his other women. We shared a line, and as she stood up I noticed something about her body.
“Oh, yea…” she exclaimed, proudly raising her spandex dress to show me her goods. “I just did this. Cool, right?”
I rubbed my nose a little and then my eyes trying to digest what I was seeing.
“It’s a lightning bolt.”
It sure was. And it was bright pink.
“The customer’s love it.”
“Cool!” I didn’t know what else to say. Is there a pubic hair chapter in Emily Post’s book of etiquette?
After the strippers left Robert stayed behind to have his way with me and we finally passed out around 7:00 am.