At this point I was charming a businessman from Oklahoma who would get high with me, order room service in the middle of the night, and drop me off at work in the morning. If he needed extra attention he’d simply have me call into work and hand me what would have been my day’s wages, but doubled. I remember wishing that I could keep him forever. “Brian” spared no expense and we stayed at the fanciest hotel in town. I remember adoring that accent, his white boy fro, and big blue green eyes in a 6′ 7” package of deliciousness. He was kind, gentle, well mannered, and he didn’t like that I had so little time. He was cultured and liked snobby things like wine tastings. He tried to make a lady out of me, but I wasn’t looking for that despite what he thought. He at one point wanted me to cut out one of my weekend jobs so that we could spend more time together. It didn’t make sense to him why I had the hostess job when I only worked there one day a week, when I could have used that day to rest and spend with him every other weekend. He pointed out that it was a shitty job, and I really didn’t need to work so hard. I guess that I didn’t, but it was a source of free alcohol. He seemed totally unaware that I ALWAYS smelled like vodka. He assumed it was just because I’d have a drink with him at the bar before we’d leave, and I was naturally that confident and outgoing. It was part of my job to be that friendly, and necessary to make tips.
About a month after meeting him,I took care of one of his affiliates on the weeks when Brian wasn’t in town. “Greg” approached me on a Thursday and said that Brian had sent him, saying to ask for me and I’d make sure his drinks were always to his liking and never empty. He was also instructed to tip me well. Greg was the nerdy punk rocker type. Tattoos, nerdy glasses, shy, and mysterious with dark hair, brown eyes and he wore super hero briefs to bed. I think he was from Colorado, I can’t really recall. He never actually wanted anything more than someone to eat breakfast with in the middle of the night, and for someone to sleep next to him. I have no idea what that arrangement was about. I know that he was not interested in any vagina to say the least, and maybe that’s why Brian told him that I would fill in as a human body pillow. I’ll never know.
There was this really adorable guy “Sean” from Texas who also worked in the oil business taking core samples who would pick me up from sandwich slinging and take me to lunch, or out to karaoke. Dark hair, dark eyes, often unshaven and a bit rugged with that big Texan accent and a heart to match. He had no idea that I was anything more than the innocent girl I’d made him believe I was. He sincerely thought I was a good person and chalked my drinking too much up to I’d had a long week and was just having a little fun. He assumed that the children I spoke were in my custody because I’d make excuses saying I didn’t have the money for a sitter. Ultimately, he’d not only pay for the dates, but also for this “baby sitter” that didn’t even exist. I can’t really tell you what I spent that extra money on, but if I had to guess it was on booze or some shitty take out on my way home drunk at night. Hell, it could have been on a stripper for all I know.
There was “Aaron” a jock type douche who was a regular at my bar who’d tip me extra as often as he could catch me on a night I would have otherwise been alone. We’d go eat and such after I finished my shift at the bar. I never really knew when he’d show up. Sometimes he’d come in with his fiance, bring me a burger from one of the local joints, and introduce me as his favorite waitress who was always so friendly and kept him in line. I remember the first time his fiance inquired about the burger, and he said he has just always seen me eating them before my shift. It was a bold faced lie, but I’d just smile and say something like “ Thanks, I’m starving ” or “these are my favorite, how did you know?”
On occasion I would sneak off with “Scotty” after a particularly hard day for a good long toke and a line or two. We’d sit and listen to Pink Floyd and just talk about all kinds of crazy shit that was wrong with the world. We’d laugh at all of the stupid she we did while we were drunk and how many times that he’d fallen off of his bar stool earlier in the day. Sometimes he’d call and I’d go get totally coked up before my shift at the bar so that it would seem to fly by. It made my personality sparkle, and I was not only peppy but my memory was good enough to take a tray of 9 drinks or more at a time back to where they belonged without missing a beat.
I was so great at being torn up that no one could tell. From what everyone else could see I was tired because I had so many jobs. I looked like a train wreck because I didn’t get any sleep due to said jobs. I was as friendly and helpful to anyone as I could be. I paid people gas money to take me to different jobs, bought them drinks or food, I was up for anything and everything. I was the go to girl if anyone wanted to know what was going on in the area at the bars or clubs or if there were any cool sales going on at the mall. I knew when all the movies were playing and all kinds of useless knowledge. I was on top. Everything seemed great for a few months and I’d forgotten how much it sucked that I’d just signed those divorce papers. My drunk, cheating, live in boyfriend wasn’t a worry because we simply didn’t cross paths very often anymore. I was queen of my empire, and things were going fantastic.