Hello, Anonymous

My name is Sara

    My mom had met my dad through a friend. A blind date she called it. Back before Tinder, or whatever social media platform existed, maybe around the time these so called dating companies charged people loads of money to help find "true love" through filming people embarassing themselves on camera to help people connect. Other people would see their lonely friends and set them up with people they know through blind dates.

    At first it seemed to be love at first sight... Until he turned into a monster like any sad typical story you hear. My mom was pretty naive about the world, growing up Southern Baptist somewhere out in Mississippi, running away from home to start her life. 

     It was better than being suffocated by all these ideals her parents forced on their children. You'll go to hell if you have s*x before marriage! Kinda thing. Shitty to deal with, right?

    Growing up sheltered, just to be subjected to a few years of abuse by a man who turned out to be a completely different person. She tried to escape to a town down in Texas, where he found her, broke down the door, and r***d her right there on the spot. 

    "You can't run from me." He looked down at her bruised and broken body. Shivering with the tears she was too scared to let out. 

     And that's how i was born. On a Wednesday night, July 29, 1992. 

    My name is Sara, this is my story, but it's easier to start from the beginning. 

    My mom's name is Anne, hardworking single mother extraordinaire. About 5'4, petite, absolutely stunning woman, piercing green eyes, and of course being back in the day, BIG curly, brown hair.

    My dad is still out there, probably on a drunken binge, I barely remember him, though. At this point in the story, I'm less than a year old. 

    "Yeah, i know. YES, i looked through the wanted ads. No... My boss fired me from Kroger. Something about a drawer coming up short. But the training manager let the new girl use my register." My mom aimlessly drummed her fingers on the kitchen table as she peered over a newspaper, ever now and then highligting something of importance before turning the page. You could hear a faint voice from the other end of the speaker. 

    "Gail, don't mention it... Really. I don't have time to..." She paused as she fingered the words on the paper.     "Hey... I found something... It says "Make $800 to $2400, no experience needed, has a number... and an address... Is this for real?" More garbled noises.

    "Mhm... Okay." She said absent-mindedly. "I'll talk to you later." She grabbed up the paper, walked over to the corded line on the wall, hung up, and began redialing.

    "Hey Rachel, mind watching Sara for a bit? I gotta go run some errands. Yeah, I'll bring her over." 

    After making sure I was safe and sound with her neighbor, Anne went back home and picked up the reciever. Dialing the number. she played with the twisty cords as she waited.

    "Kitten Canteen." Came a gruff voice.

    "Hello, hi, yes I saw your ad in the newspaper, I was wondering if I could come in for an interview?"

    "Any experience before?" Experience. I don't even know...

    "I've been a waitress before at a bar... Your ad is very... uh vague." She chuckled, nervously.

    "Come on in, ask for Michael, the hiring manager."

    30 minutes of driving later, she arrived at a building, not really in the middle of nowhere, but around a bunch of other not so great looking buldings and eyed the name and...

    "You've got to be kidding me." Live nude. Topless. Looking down at her clothes, a button up blouse. She looked like she just came from church. She was about to turn the ignition again, when she looked down at the circled ad in the passenger seat. That's a lot of money... She thought to herself. Sighing, she picked it up and made her way inside the building.

    There was a beautiful blonde woman at the bar, who was bent over a notebook.

    "We aren't open.." She grumbled, before looking up. "Oh... How can I help you darling?"

    "I'm here to talk to your hiring manager... Michael?" Anne said, voice going up an octave. Great.. I don't belong here... What am i doing... Evacuate....

    "Hello?" Similar gruff voice from the line. "That's me."

    Handsome man, in his late 30's maybe. Brown hair, brown eyes, tailored suit.

    "Hi, I'm Anne, we spoke on the phone?"

    "Dancer or waitress?"

    "Ah..." Anne looked around. The carpet was red, the lights were on, eyeing the stage and the intimdating pole in the middle of it all... The tables and chairs and couches... Another stage around the edges of the huge room. "Waitress."

     "Fill this out." Michael said, handing her an application. "When can you start?"

    "Start?" Anne said, slightly startled. "No interview?"

    "You said you have bar experience right? After you fill that out let's go to my office and we will chat."

    It was a simple application, she circled waitress filled out the necessities and followed him to another room. There's an open bar and couches. One way mirror, you can see everything out on the main floor.

    "So Anne, is it, you wanna use your real name or a fake name?" He looked her up and down.

    "Uh, fake name." He took a few notes.

    "What do you have in mind?"

    "Any name or... I'm sorry I've never been to a place like this before. I hardly think I qualify." Anne said, gesturing to her attire.

    "I think you'll fit in just right. You seem a little soft though, but don't worry this place will toughen you up soon enough." Instant nerves, but the money... Money...

    "Is Lacey okay?"

    "Yeah, that sounds good. You should think about getting into dancing after you get comfortable." He said, writing down her new identity.

    Dancing, though, like Hell. "Yes, maybe, I'll consider that, I just don't think I'd do all that well."

    "Think about it, when do you want to start?" Start? Wow, actually got hired. At a strip club. A STRIP CLUB. God, if my parents could see me now. She pondered. "Tomorrow?"

    "Sounds good, day or night?"

    "Day, please." Michael got up and extended his hand. Shaking my mom's hand, he replied.

    "Come in by 11:30, Terra is our main waitress, she will walk you through what you have to do. Dress in comfortable shoes, boots, sandals, wear something sexy, black skirt, crop top, bra, low cut dress. She will give you a tour, introduce you to the other girls and get you going."

    "Okay, thank you." She smiled and left. God dammit. 

     "A strip club, for real?" Gail laughed, dumping a load of popcorn in her mouth. The T.V. on, some mattress giant commercial. A few pieces fell into her red hair.

     My mom was handing me a sippy cup with milk in it. 

    "Dude, I was mortified. I came in looking, like someone's damn sunday school teacher."

    "Here give me those papers, I'll roll us a joint." Anna glared at her. "What?"

    "Sara's not in bed yet."

    "And? She will be fine, just put on that Cartoon Network or something. I do it for the kids I sit with anyways. That's what they're there for."

    "No way all those programs are good for her to soak up. It's all mindless trash. My baby girl is smart as hell. Look she's already trying to talk."

    They both looked down at me, gurgling and drooling at the T.V. That's how i imagine it anyways.

    "Only at Mattress Giant!" The commercial sang.

    "Pfffft, whatever, Imma use your commode." Gail got up, brushed her hair out, and took the newly rolled spliff.

    My mom looked at me for a second, turned on channel 44 and put me in my play pen. "Save me some!"

    Over the course of the several weeks, my mom picked up dayshift at the Kitten Canteen. The girls were all beautiful to be expected, a little catty, but Terra seemed nice enough. She was about my mom's age, 22, short blown out bob, a little taller than her. Tan skin, perfect teeth, and a teeny tiny beauty mark next to the crown of her lips. She helped Anna integrate into the stripper community.

    "Never make friends in this industry." Was one of the first things she warned her, those same words my mom would echo in my ears years later.

    Strip clubs are definitely a different atmosphere, mom was right about that, for sure. When the club was in full swing, dancers on the stage rotating out. Girls walking around, placing tantalizing hands on the gentlemens' shoulders, flirting saying whatever dumb flattering thing they had to do to get that lap dance. Or sell VIP.

    My mom passed a group of men one night, older, rowdy, drunken. One of them was close to the stage tipping... I believe it was Starla on that moment, shaking her ass and her t**s.

    "Hey Lacey, get us another round baby girl!" Ugh here we go. Anna thought to herself. The man who called out was Randy. A notoriously touchy feely creeper. He touched her behind and gave it a good squeeze before handing her a $50. "Keep the change, sexy."

    It doesn't quite shock her anymore. She remembered cringing away the first time she ever met him. He had laughed at her reaction and gave her a $20. Just for nothing. Just for a little squeeze. It still gave her the heebie jeebies though.

    "Coming right up." She winked at him, running her fingers through his hair. Part of the job. It's a job. Don't think too much of it. She reminded herself.

    "Randy at it again?" Terra said, shaking her head. "Least he tips. I swear he tried to massage my n****e last time i went to his table." She loaded up the Buds on Anna's tray. Anna paid out the total and Terra gave her the change which she promptly stuck in her bra.

    "Thanks sugar."

    After handing out their drinks, Anna tried to walk away when Randy's friend... I believe his name was Dan,  reached out and grabbed her hand.

    "When you gonna start dancing Lace?" He eyed her appreciatively. "I can see you got a whole lotta talent." 

"I'm still thinking about it." Anna responded, laughing fliratiously. She made her way through her rounds.

    Maybe a few months passed by when she started actually dancing. It was hard at first, she always told me. One of the biggest things, you gotta be strong mentally. Taking rejection when it comes, every no leads to a yes. Stack those dances. Flirt. Avoid being grabbed inappropriately. Basic s****l harrassment, and one time she even almost got r***d. It was a learning experience, how do you hold yourself up, how you defend yourself. Definitely no room for pushovers in that industry.

    Eventually she became the best money earner in the club. She wasn't that weak little girl anymore, the job definitely did toughen her as her boss said it would.

    She didn't take it from anybody. The girls knew not to f**k with Lacey. She sawed off Summer's heal off, remember? For sucking her regular's d**k in VIP. f****d her up, she wasn't back at work for ages. She threw her glass in another girls face for stealing her lingerie. Don't f**k with Lacey. She's the boss's favorite. That kind of talk.

    That's also how she met my adoptive dad.

Charles. Renowned president of a very large company, millionaire, and totally married. He came in, once a week, always surrounded by the girls, always tipping hundreds. Throwing thousands on stage, VIP after VIP with his favorites. Anna would never go up there though, he would definitely tip her when she went on stage, always thanked him, never sat.

    After a while, she'd come to find that he requested her. After that, he never wanted anyone else entertaining him. After 6 months, she finally gave him her phone number. Dates turned into more.

Now I guess, I should tell you about my biological father, or at least what i remember. His name was Ryan, a drunk, never could keep a job. He would be gone forever on a binge, come back swinging at my mom. He lived in his own place by the time I was about 2 or 3. I remember one birthday, he didn't even remember how old I was. I was sitting through my own celebration confused. After I got home, I asked my mama,

    "How old am I?" 

    "Three." She answered, "Why?"

    "Daddy says I'm 4." I remember that flash of irritation that crossed her face. Not exactly a look to forget.

    "Daddy's wrong." She said, brushing out my hair. "Time for bed, baby, let's get you tucked in."

    Ryan wasn't a totally crap dad, as far as I can remember. I mean, I remember the fights. Flying lamps and telephones. Crying in the corner of the room, watching my mom scream and cry. When he got his own place, in a junkyard, he did take extra care to read me my alphabetic phonix flash cards. He tried in his own way. I remember at one point he had a pet hedgehog. I don't remember what it was named, but I remember he cared for it when it was sick. I would visit its grave.

    When I ran through the door and slammed the door on my big toe, he didn't have bandaids, but he had a trashbag and duct tape, that's how he fixed that.

    I ran through a pile of fireants one time, and i remember screaming for him. He ran out of the house and picked me up, took me to the nasty rusted bath tub and washed them all away. It was so itchy, so painful.     But he held me and told me I'm a good girl. That I was his little princess.

    That's why it's so hard for me, even to this day to say that he was a total, complete monster. Cause I knew he loved me. That uneducated bastard.

    A few years rolled around, I was at least 6, and my mom and Charles came home, announcing they got eloped. He asked me if it was okay if he could be my daddy.

    Behind the scenes, he spent lots of money, getting my dad to drop his parental rights since he couldn't pay child support. I accepted it and just like that I had a new daddy. I don't remember it affecting me too much, mentally. I accepted Ryan was gone, and I wasn't gonna hear from him ever again.

    We moved into a giant mansion, I had a huge room with everything you could possibly imagine, toys, games. Video games, a TV. My own personal play room. I was living the dream. We all were, my mom stopped working, started shopping. Clothes, Fashion. Fancy cars. Everything we could possibly imagine. I stopped going to public school, I went to a private school. I did well, got good grades, but let's just say puberty wasn't exactly kind to me. My nose grew first, and my ears. I got made fun of. Girls would trip me in the halls, I'd go crying home to mama.

    "Am I ugly?" I'd ask her.

     "No, you're just a late bloomer." She'd say. I never really understood those words, but I remember counting down the summers whenever school would let out. Looking in the mirror, hoping to see something beautiful. Maybe if i asked Brad out he would say yes. I had tons of crushes. Tons of fantasies. 

    Hell, when I discovered the feelings I got from m**********g. Of course, I didn't really know what it was called, all I knew was that if I... Touched myself a certain way. Certain... Feelings... It was intense. A rise in pleasure that would leave me absolutely breathless. I experimented with that a lot. How long could I go for?     How strong can I make those feelings?

Charles, or Dad I guess, he was definitely strict, I grew up knowing the meaning of respect. Don't make dad mad, he was scary when he was mad. A tad emotionally distant too, I associated that with the regret that I'm not his biogical daughter, but he took on the role because my mom said the only way to be with her was to love me like his own.

    Fast forward to when I was 16, and starting my junior year of high school. That's when my parents broke the news to me. We were moving to Missouri. My old circle of friends, I'd leave behind. Public school. Lots of kids. It sucked, starting fresh.  Not knowing anyone.  

    Just like that, we packed up and left everything behind. My dad was retired, and planning on working on an independent project with his cousin. 

     Finally,  it's the first day of school, start of the second semester in around the year 2009.

    We lived in a nice big house, it wasn't anywhere around the size of the mansion but I had the whole refurnished basement to myself in response to my cry for independence. I wanted the privacy to brood or read, play video games. I have a nice car, reliable, 2009 Toyota Camry, they felt bad after I went through a bout of depression. I don't have to take the bus at least. But I guess, this is finally, now where it all begins... 

And the start of how it all changed forever.