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I was working at a convenience/dollar store like Dollar Tree. Mark came in and began to harass me. He was mad because he wanted Gigi. He would do a sort of cycle: come inside, pester me, leave, return, repeat. Finally fed up I took him by the neck and escorted him to the front of the store. Before I reached the manager I released him and pretended I never touched him. I explained to the manager what happened, leaving out the part about my assault and battery of a customer, and that I wanted to file a report. Without even hearing my story or meeting Mark they seemed to take his side almost immediately. Sad and angry I went back to work. Later on Mark returned. This time he followed me around the store. As I was walking away and trying to ignore him he ran up beside me, swearing. I saw that he had a kitchen knife. I became afraid. He grabbed my arm and I tried to remove the knife. But I was unsuccessful. He inflicted several cuts before I was able to remove the blade from his hand. At that exact moment a cop approached us. Believing I had inflicted the wounds on myself, the cop was going to take me to a psych ward. Terrified, I ran out of the store I was working at and into a large grocery store that was dimly lit and appeared abandoned. I ran until I reached the entrance to a secret strip club in the back; my plan was to run through here and find an exit that led out to a back alley. The two women who headlined in this private grocery store gentleman's club were somehow personal friends of mine. They were middle-aged black women who looked like long time drug users, and one of them I owed money
2018-09-10 07:39:04
I was going on a journey; to where I don’t know, and found myself at the airport. Just before I presented myself to the check-in desk I felt an annoying lump on the bridge my nose; slightly to the left hand side... like a plook. So I trudged off to the nearest mirror for a look, and discovered the shocking truth. This was no pimple, zit, spot or suppuration of pus that had grown like a mountain to the surface of my skin. Nor was this a teenage bout of acne waiting to be compressed between my pinched thumb and forefinger, exuding a lava that resembled the contents of a squeezy bottle of mustard. But what was it? I had to look closer..... A miniature flower had taken root and bloomed through the surface of my earthly pore. Like a daisy gently bristling in a grassy meddow, the pollen scented aroma of summer surrounded by silken petals bloomed in colour and vibrancy. I began to pick off the petals one by one only to find hidden under each an angry wasp buzzing with rage and torment, including the Queen who sat under the petal at the top of the flower pointing north at 12 o’clock. For fear of being stung I couldn’t touch anymore and had to leave any future ‘weeding’ until after my flight. As my flight landed I found myself in Windsor and a new job. I was working for another Queen, this time Elisabeth I of Scotland and II of England. My job was to help with the smooth running of the upcoming Royal Wedding of Harry and Meghan. The job didn’t last and I soon found myself unemployed. Handing back in my Royal page-boy type uniform, consisting of plus fours, white tights, buckled shoes and a thrilly laced shirt, I returned to Mexico. Dejected, starving and struggling for cash I decided, upon advice from a friend, to become self-employed and was soon earning a pittance gift wrapping souvenirs purchased by tourists for their loved ones at home. It wasn’t enough though and my meagre earnings barely stretched to buying a plate of taco soup, rice and beans. But In a weird twist of fate my dream morphed into a strange success story – like the American dream I tweaked my business and moved it lock, stock and two smoking barrels to a gay nightclub. I was now offering a naked gift wrapping service and was rolling in the money.
2018-03-29 13:32:50


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