The Story About Alcohol Abuse the Media Won't Do

The Story About Alcohol Abuse the Media Won't Do

by Lynn Earley

Addiction. Addicts. Recovery. Alcoholism. Celebrities Going to Rehab. . Binge Drinking. Underage Drinking. Drunk Drivers.

The media is filled with stories on these topics lately, mainly because drama and sensationalism really boost ratings. News formats love all the blood, the violence, the car wrecks, the outrageous, erratic behaviors, the public shame of fallen stars caught in embarrassing booze -fueled scenarios.

However, there is a huge point being missed.

A fact that impacts every person who has decided to stop drinking. It would be this:

ALCOHOL FREE  SOCIAL VENUES FOR ADULTS DO NOT EXIST. 

After all the rehabs, meetings, sober coaches, treatment centers, interventions, therapy, etc. an individual is still tossed back into a totally booze-oriented society.

Party spaces sans the drunks, drugs and drama (found in regular bars, trendy  clubs) , open only to adults over 21, are not available , on a large scale, for the general public.

(Especially not in New York City.)

It's the biggest most overlooked fact, when dealing with alcohol abuse. Mind boggling, how I seem to be the only human on earth, who realizes it.

AA sober “bars” , recovery events that target a closed fellowship , corny all ages gatherings , are not a part of this picture , at all.

Recently, there have been many articles about “sober nightlife,” where the reporters describe various alcohol free “pop up events.”

One takes place at 6 AM , where guests (young 20-30 somethings) wear workout clothes, do yoga, and freestyle dance to electronic beats. Dogs, goats, and children have been allowed in the past. (Sorry, but that doesn't scream "nightlife," to me.) 
  Another group stages alcohol free “Open Mic” type parties, a few times a year, in LA and NYC. Another hosts a mixed bag venue, offering workshops, discussions, meditation and healthy snacks, with admission prices ranging from $45 to $110. 

No mention of an exciting, vibrant  booze free nightclub.; a permanent place, open five nights a week. 
Because that kind of venue is non existent.

I’ve tried , since 1987, when I stopped drinking, to bring the fact that these venues do not exist, to the public’s attention.

That year, I wrote my first letter,  to Donald Trump. I banged it out on an old Underwood, with carbon paper. A few weeks later, I received a  curt , yet gracious reply, on his silky gold  stationery, stating that his interests lie solely in real estate and gambling. 

There is something to be said, for unanswered prayers.

( I wrote to him because a) he does not drink b) lost a brother to alcoholism c) was rich d) had a lot of space, in Manhattan, at the time. )

Over the years, I have corresponded with hundreds of people,  and have yet to find anyone with the intelligence to understand my point, and  the interest to do anything about it.

Promoting partying without alcohol has not been easy, at all.

I wasn't always “sober.” 

I started drinking at sixteen, stopped when I was thirty eight. . During those twenty two years  my addictions rendered me unconscious, and out of touch, with myself, and those around me. My low self-esteem, a very high sex drive, and alcohol addiction, all kept me from knowing any kind of real happiness, sanity or serenity. 

As long as I had a drink in one hand, a joint in the other, a man in my bed, and money  in my pocket, I didn’t care about anything, or anybody.

Except of course, where my next cocktail  was coming from. I was THE Party Girl, whose life revolved around alcohol.   If there wasn’t a party happening, then I’d create one.

During the mid 70’s I lived in a great duplex in Chelsea, which provided a chic, trendy backdrop for some wild  Studio 54 type soirees, complete with Beautiful Talented Artsy People.

They loved my bashes, because I always knew when to bring out the Right Booze, with The Right Drugs,  Right Munchies,  Right Ambiance,  Right Music.  Many a morning, around 6 AM, after the Courvosier and the Cocaine, a breakfast of Quaaludes and Valiums were offered, rendering the guests  in semi coma states, who then passed out all over the  place.  Success!  A Good Time was Had By All.

This lifestyle went on for years, until May 22, 1987, when I had my last drink. For some time, I had been experiencing an allergic reaction to alcohol.  That night, I had gone to a glamorous party  and had a split of Dom Perignon.  It was to be my last cocktail, ever. The next day, my hangover simulated death. I had shortness of breath, was ice cold and felt like I was going to pass out.

That was it, for me.

One of the very first things I realized, in the first six months after I enjoyed my last glass of bubbly,  was that not one place existed, where an adult could go, to socialize, dance, listen to live music, without alcohol being present.  (There STILL isn't. Amazing.) 

AA dances I attended were dreadful. The DJs were lackluster, the people stood around and talked “program” all night, cliques ruled, and many of the events allowed kids. Hardly the sexy, exciting, titillating  atmosphere I was used to. 

My solution was to start a group called the High and Dry Club, which is now the  Zero Proof Party Zone.  It exists only as a virtual “meetup,” of over 2,500 members. I get requests to join every day.

The main goal was, and still is, to provide society (not just those in recovery) with an edgy, upbeat,  hip yet healthy alcohol-free social alternative  to bars and clubs. 

The Zero Proof Party Zone  is an arts based dynamic. It is a very diverse mix of musicians, artists, actors, dancers, photographers, and many others in creative fields, along with  individuals into personal fitness, nutrition, yoga, meditation, alternative health and  holistic practices.  They all enjoy life sans booze, and wish to connect with other kindred spirits. It is not an AA/recovery group, at all.

I have basically produced a  powerful “hands-on” prevention tool, where a person can actually experience what it is like to enjoy a fabulous night out, without getting hammered, sick or high. The Zero Proof  Clubs Project will create many jobs, stimulate the economy, promote all the arts, and healthy lifestyles.

Right now it’s all liquor-filled bars and clubs on one side, and AA on the other. These vibrant venues I've designed will provide a much needed enlightened, artistic CHOICE, for anyone who has stopped drinking booze. Especially those who are “sober curious,” individuals who think that they are over indulging, and seek social venues that do not include alcohol.

Non drinkers need their own venue. That obviously takes money.

I 'm looking to have a conversation with someone  who also has a similar sense of vision; who thinks creatively, acts productively  , wishes to  serve the greater good.

Someone  with whom this whole idea resonates, maybe because they are in recovery themselves.

Sober celebrities abound. So do concerned philanthropists.

Such as Michael Bloomberg,  who I met in 2003. I gave him my proposal for my Zero Proof Clubs Project,  which he passed it on to the LMDC, an agency that was formed after 9/11.

Unfortunately, by the time all the paperwork was reviewed, the agency ran out of funds. My project embraces all the social themes he has supported over the years. 
I'm a social entrepreneur; someone who is using a business to address a major social issue ( alcoholism). Think “Weconomy.”

Not everyone needs/wants endless cocktails to enjoy life. It's time for the media to finally feature stories on individuals with viable solutions to alcohol abuse, rather than continue to shine the spotlight on the problems that arise because of it.

One interesting observation embraces the reality that England ( London especially) is way ahead of New York City, when it comes to the non alcoholic party /social scene. It is home to many “dry bars” and “mindful drinking festivals.”

It's time for New York City to wake up and welcome a more conscious club scene, easily accomplished by..empowering this extremely passionate , very original zero proof party gal who has been ahead of the sober times for over twenty five  years, and wishes to help change the culture with regard to drinking.

These unique first of their kind "conscious clubs" will impact millions of individuals.

First, of course, would be those in recovery from alcohol abuse; many who struggle every day, not to consume the liquid drugs that had been, or are, destroying their lives.  Where can they go to party, or dance, or socialize , in NYC, where no alcohol is served? ( On a regular basis, not just "pop ups" who are over priced and cater to "cliques.." )
Then there are the "non drinkers," which include a range of people, who abstain due to religious or health reasons, or who are pregnant, or who just choose to embrace an alcohol free lifestyle; a "high vibe life." ( Like myself.)  I last around 45 minutes in a bar/club, as I'm not tossing back liquid drugs
in order to get a good "buzz," and just to not relate to the whole loud boozy vibe.

Finally, there is a group that really would benefit from the existence of zero proof party places. It consists of men and women who realize...or think..they have a "problem," with alcohol. They see that it is affecting their lives, and want to stop, or cut down, but sitting in a chair in an AA meeting just has no appeal.
 However, if there was a very cool, sexy, artsy venue that existed ( for adults over 21 only) that served vibrant non alcoholic cocktails ( like Curious Elixirs and Seedlip) , that offered dancing, and fabulous live music , then they at least would have a "choice."

Because right now, there is none.

On May 22nd, I celebrated thirty one years sobriety. I had wanted to host a swell party, and invite sober folks in the NYC area, but was not able to come up with the funds. I did inquire about space to rent, however. The Union Square Ballroom was available ( a truly divine space for this swing/salsa/ballroom dancer) but the rental fee sure wasn't.  Neither was  monies for a DJ, snacks, beverages, ice, paper goods, etc.
I've decided to start a GoFundMe page, in order to raise funds, so I can start producing alcohol free pop up events in NYC. Hopefully they would attract an "angel investor" , who would want to help me achieve the ultimate goal, of opening NYC's first booze free "conscious club."

Years ago, a singer in the Zero Proof Party Zone commented on my frustration, at not being able to find the funds to create these venues. She said, " the right ears haven't heard you yet."
Maybe now, they have. 

StripOGrams While Sober: A Bare All, Tell All

Strip O Grams While Sober

A Bare All, Tell All

I stopped drinking May 1987. At the time, I was an Office Manager for a small New Jersey publishing company. I had only been there for a year, and was already getting ...antsy.

My previous job had been a barmaid, in Hoboken, called Redheads, owned by a former burlesque queen. Beyond fun! I recall the day she threw a fab party, for the two year anniversary of her bar. My eyes popped..my jaw dropped..when one after another,,,a bevy of bodacious bombshells strutted down the stairs, framed in feather boas, and sparkling sequins, showing off fabulous curves and cleavage.

They were all in their fifties, but no one noticed. These gals still knew how to keep the attention of the crowd. Their friendships had evolved back in the day, when they headlined in all the bawdy strip clubs in and around Hudson County, and around the country.

Besides being still built, and beautiful, these senior sirens were funny, and charming, and filled with stories from their colorful pasts. “You had to have a gimmick..an act....” I recall one gal sharing with me. It was pure theater, creatively mixing together elaborate costumes, with staging, sexy music, lights, and imaginative props, like real birds, snakes. My absolute favorites were those large ostrich feather fans, that they used to tease, taunt and play peek a boo , with their adoring audiences.

Before TV, these were the ..stars..Ever since Katy Keene, who I adored starting at age eight, I 've been a huge fan of all things pinup, and now added burlesque to my collection of racy sexy alluring females

And,,not to brag..but I was...built like them !. A fact that definitely came into play, with regard to my next ..career choice.

Now, back to my reality, at the time :that mind numbing desk job . Boy, was I was bored.

Lunchtimes were spent around the corner, at a great thrift store, where I met let's call her “Darla”. Thrift stores , in general, attract all kinds of characters ( myself included). Lots of artists, musicians, writers, dancers, actors, etc. all seeking unique vintage fashions, and treasures midst the junk.

Darla sure fit that bill. She was outgoing, bubbly, and dressed in a fearless, bizarre, slutty fashionista kind of way. We struck up several conversations, where she divulged that she was a stripper.

At that time, strip o grams were all the rage. Instead of staged productions in run down theaters, where the public paid for a ticket to the show , wives were hiring strippers as birthday presents for their husbands. Office workers pooled money not for a big cake, or a fancy lunch somewhere, but for a foxy femme to go, who would surprise their unsuspecting bosses at work. Grooms-to-be hired strippers for their bachelor parties (just for the “show”..no sleazy side action...) Even corporate types got involved, when they held a big dinner honoring a long time employee, on his retirement, and thought a pretty gal dancing around, disrobing in front of him would spice up the night. Stripper agencies were doing a great business, openly advertising in local papers. The back page of the Village Voice was filled with them.

Darla gave me more than few once overs in the store, when I was trying on clothes, and then gave me the pitch. “

“You would make a great stripper!” So I started asking her questions. Seems she made $75. for each gig, plus tips. It was mostly “bra and G-string only” ..no nudity. She did confess to taking her top off, for more money, but that was only if she felt “safe.” A boom box was needed, and a mix tape cassette, with your “music.” Different costumes were a must, such as a police officer, nurse, bride, conservative suit ( for those kinky office parties) ..maybe a cowgirl. My now conscious mind was...exploding.

Yes..I did have all the qualifications, for the job. Thinking back, I realize that my newly found sobriety was a big factor.; I had so much more confidence. I could do..anything!

She suggested I come with her, on one of her “jobs,” so I could see for myself. I agreed. Thirty years ago, and I can recall that night.

We pulled up outside a house in a nice residential area in Bergen County. Darla said they had requested a “cop” strip. She was decked out in a blue shirt, dark blue tie, police hat with a badge, handcuffs swinging from her belt, a billy club in one hand, and her boom box in the other.

There was a birthday party going on, a 20 something crowd, and Darla was the poor guy's “present.” She turned on the music, and started a wild dance, gyrating, bumping, grinding in the birthday boy's face, all the while peeling off her clothes, down to a very small bra, and G string. She smiled, and laughed, and tossed her hair around like Tina Turner. I was..speechless. She made some tips...grabbed her pieces of costume which had been flung around..asked for her pay, and we left.

What did I see? Not to be mean spirited ( Darla had much positive energy) but she : was small chested, and not built great, was not exactly..”pretty”..had kind of crazy eyes, and buck teeth, and..to top it off, she had a slight limp( from an accident..) I went home, looked at myself in the mirror, and saw a perfect resume, for the job of a Strip O Gram girl.

So I gave notice, and quit my buttoned up, dreary, routine 9 to 5 job. Said Bah Bye to filing, and it was off to the Land of Lap Dances, Pasties and Play for Pay. I had been a topless go go dancer in NYC for three years, so what Darla was describing sounded pretty tame. And fun. And lucrative.

First things First . I needed costumes. I found a uniform store nearby that sold everything I needed for an awesome officer of the law., even buying a real black leather policeman's belt and holster, a hat, a nightstick, and of course handcuffs. Then I went to another place, that specialized in nurse's outfits. I already had a sexy tighty whitey little vintage style one, that I came across in my favorite thrift. All I needed was the nurse's hat, and a pin, that said R.N. And a stethoscope. Underneath? White seamed stockings, white lace panties, G String and garter belt. No Mercy. The guy would need a defibrillator by the time I was finished with him.

I added more costumes, as I went on, because I was about to jump down a very bizarre, raunchy, sometimes rowdy, and always entertaining..rabbit hole. I wanted an extra ordinary escape, from the mundane, and boy , I sure got it.

Darla was a free lance stripper, but I wanted more structure, and protection, and order. So I signed up with a very popular local agency (that is still functioning today) . This was party central; they provided not only strippers, but also singing telegrams, balloons, magicians, and clowns.

All the strip o grams were carefully screened ( they asked for , and checked ID) All were paid for up front. I got $50 , they got $25. I could keep all tips.

One last thing I had to do: make my “music tapes. “ It was all boom boxes and cassettes, back then. I love music, and ended up really researching countless songs, until I ended up with great background sounds to my strip shows. I studied the tracks , for that obvious boom chick a boom beat, going back to vintage burlesque soundtracks from the 1950's and 60's. My tracks ranged from “9 to 5” ( for the office gigs) , Another One Bites the Dust, and Like A Virgin , for the bachelor parties, retro blues, like Scratch my Back/Otis Redding., or a more current tune like Need U Tonight/INXS ( “something about you girl/that makes me..sweat..” ) Saxophones were always present, like Harlem Nocturne/Lounge Lizards, and the old standbys : “You Can Leave Your Hat On/Joe Cocker, or Let's Get It On/Marvin Gaye. So..there it was. I thought I was all..prepared. But nothing could have readied me for what happened the first time I was sent out.

It wasn't my first “job,” it was more of a “go see,”or an internship, of sorts. My agent suggested I stop in at a strip o gram taking place in a popular restaurant, in their “party room,” so I could get an idea what goes on, when the clothes come..off.. There were actually two strippers booked that night, because two bachelor parties were being held in the same room. Even better....

To this day, I'm not sure why I did this, but I got dressed, like I was going on a gig. Head to toe, in black lace, black seamed stockings on my long legs, topped with a badass black leather motorcyle jacket, and finished with black patent leather stilettos. When I got to the place, I was told the “room” was downstairs. As soon as I walked down the stairs, I was greeted with a raucous chorus of”the stripper's here.” When I looked around, the scene was something out of a Fellini movie.

Two large round tables. Seated around the first one: wiseguys. Not those older, worn out goombahs in track suits, but handsome young, hot, sexy hunks, all sharply dressed , bits of expensive gold bling flashing here and there. Seeing me, these gorgeous funny guidos were all smiles, and flirts. “Yo..the stripper's here!” they kept yelling. I had to explain to them that ..No,,I wasn't the “stripper,” that two other women were on their way ( they were ..late!) .

I then looked over at the other table. My first thought,,geez they look like ..cops. Quieter. Dressed nice, but conservatively, like jocks. Yet another group of gorgeous guys, very muscular, in great shape, but with a weird arrogance about them. And staring right through me, every one of them, like I was a perp.

Turns out, I was right. Not just “cops,” but NJ State Troopers and Garden State Parkway Detectives, one of whom came up to me. He had a serious intense vibe, good looking in a rugged Robert Mitchum way . Again, I explained that I was just there to observe. Something he told the other men, and they nodded. Seems he was ..in charge. I was right, I found out later, when he asked me for my card. He was their boss. ( I ended up going out on a date, with him. He picked me up in nondescript compact car. When I got in the front seat, there was a sawed off shotgun next to his seat, and a club with handcuffs around it next to mine. Nothing happened, just conversation, about his depressing marriage. I picked up a really bizarre vibe, got really spooked, and never saw him again. )

.I took a seat in the back of the room,  and waited, till the strippers got there. A few minutes later, they came downstairs. Two gals, one older than the other. Older gal was tall, slender, dressed in a strapless sequin party frock, and a feather boa. Pretty, with dark hair, but came off like a ..snobby schoolteacher. The other young woman was shorter, with some kind of boring go go dancer spandex outfit on. To make things worse, they had.a bodyguard slash escort with them, who stood nearby. (Turns out they were not, from my agency.) Talk about a major buzzkill...

There music came on, and they started to dance, and get into their..”act..” Yes, they removed their clothes, down to a bra, and small panties ( you see more on the beach, at the Jersey shore) . However, they were both small chested, lacked any kind of pizzazz, and putting their amped up audience to ..sleep.

Those horny guys wanted...more.

A few of the Italian stallions sitting near me started making comments. “I'll bet you'd be much better. We'll pay you...” They starting flashing 20's at me, lots of them. By the time those snores were done, they had talked me into it.

Before I knew it, I was up on the table, peeling off those layers of black lace, right down to a scintillating black thong, then.,an even smaller G string. I even flashed my top, if I recall ( it was ..30 years ago..) For some reason, I felt..safe. Both the troopers and the guidos, and especially the two bachelors, were having fun. They were being entertained, grateful for the extra added attraction, and I was making a ton of money. I must have gone home with more than those two other gals combined.

And so..at that moment...“Libido”...was born...!  My stripper name. Even Howard Stern knows me as.."Libido." 

Shortly after that first ..peek..into the world of strip., I was sent out on my first official gig. A birthday party, in a house in Jersey City. It was from a wife, to her husband. Sounded ..uneventful. As it turned out, my cousin Mike had decided to pay my family a visit ( they lived in Bergen County) . When he found out what I was doing for a living, he volunteered to come along as an escort. I told him he would have to wait in the car, and could not come inside. Which he did, along with a six pack of beer. Now Mikey had been in trouble with the law, all his life, up in Rockland County, with a long rap sheet. I didn't feel very comfortable leaving him there, but I had no choice. I went up and knocked on the door.

It was opened by a very tired looking , chubby, frumpy woman in her late thirties, who gave me an icy once over, like immediately. I could hear laughter, noise, and chatter coming from the room behind her.

She told me to “wait here..,” so she could get her hubby into position, on a chair in the middle of the room. Ok..fine. After a minute or two, she gave me the go ahead.

In the small living room was a mixed bag,of men, women, old ( her mother) and young (their kids, I would imagine..I was too nervous and freaked out, at the moment.) Hubby, though, was a cutie pie..whose eyes lit up when he saw me, and he was all smiles. Something wifey wasn't too pleased about. My music was on, and I walked around the birthday boy, sat on his lap, straddled him, and got into total lap dance mode. Now grandma started with the daggers. I was like “Yo Bitch, you hired me..I'm here..and now I'm going to do what you paid for me to do.”

By the time I had peeled down to my bra and G string, they had ushered the little ones out ( How stupid, to begin with.) Lucky there were a few of his buddies there, who cheered us on. I had to make sure every time I bent over, I was facing Birthday Guy, and not a scowl faced female. I got through it, got paid, and got out of there. Lucky for me, Mikey had passed out in the front seat, snoring and reeking of Budweiser. Success! My first gig...over and out.

I went on a lot of strip o grams, after that, until I stopped about 18 months later. After all, I was 38 years old , when I started. I stopped right before my 40th birthday. Yes, I was sober, but it was obvious that I was also an excitement junkie. I wasn't hanging out in bars and clubs anymore, getting high, and chasing drama, so I need another “fix.” I sure found a perfect replacement.

Here's some quickie scenes I found myself starring in:

Stripping in Bennigan's Restaurant. While nice folks were eating dinner. Still SMH over that. 

Being Ray Catena's birthday present. Yes, that Ray Catena. Every time I see him in his ads for Mercedes Benz, I burst out laughing. He did not like his surprise, at all. So ..uptight... He ended up stopping in the middle, and dragging one of his co workers on stage, in his place. Just too funny really. I didn't care; I was paid very well for that one.

A frat party, at Stevens Institute. O M G...what was I thinking. I was old enough to be their..mother. When I got there, there were tons of young cute college guys packed into some kind of beautiful old house, on campus. They were all so buzzed on beer, and shots, they didn't even notice my age. I did some kind of short dance, and got out of there, before it got too crazy. And instructed my agent to never book me with any crowd under 21!

The 50 Shades of Grey booking. A “small bachelor party, “ I was told. I pulled up in front of a stunning Tudor style house in Ridgewood. BMWS, Mercedes, Audis in the driveway. A very elegant, handsome, older man came to the door, and introduced himself. I was to be a gift for his son, who was getting married. Oh Kay. He led me through several beautifully furnished rooms, back to where six men were sitting, in a circle, sipping cocktails. Did I mention, they all looked like straight out of GQ. Great looking, impeccably dressed in Brooks Brothers casual fashion. Polite, amused looks as I walked in.The atmosphere was steamy, intimate, intense. I was surrounded by Christian Grey clones, who were undressing me with their eyes, even before I could do it myself. I was wearing my signature accessory...black seamed stockings, with cuban heels. Add to that black lace garter belt, matching panties, G string. My legs have always been one of my best assets, and I used them . I took my time. My movements were slow, deliberate. This was no bourgeois bawdy run of the mill gig, that was for sure. It was Eyes Wide Shut; sophisticated , decadent, erotic , with the feeling of repressed sex all around ( especially evident in the bulges that caught my eye, in more than one crotch.) The groom to be especially liked it when I knelt down in front of him, and stroked his leg, under his pants. Even I was turned on, when I left. I was given a great tip, and many compliments. Mission accomplished.

My First Rodeo! My agent really sent me on what could have been a very dangerous scene. Once again, two bachelor parties in one place. The location? Wild West City, a tourist attraction in western New Jersey. , where, during the day, was bustling with kids and families, enjoying much cowboy styled fun.Certainly not the scene, when I got there. All those western themed buildings were now in the dark, and in the rain. . I remember how creeped out I was, driving into the parking lot. I saw lights on in the 'saloon,” so I parked the car, and went in. There was supposed to be another stripper there, so I would be all right. Of course, she was a no show. For the first time , I was a bit scared. There were at least 30 – 40 guys there. I spoke directly to the guy who had made the booking, and let him know that I has called my boyfriend, and gave him the license plate numbers of at least 10 cars parked out side. A total lie, but it worked like a charm. They were a rootin tootin rowdy crowd but I dug my spurs in, when needed, and managed to bump and grind my way outta Dodge , in one piece.

There was one gig that was so off the wall, however, that it turned out to be my last.. It was down the Jersey shore. Why I agreed to such a faraway job, I don't remember, but it probably had to do with a lot of money. When I got to the location, it was one of those sand filled wooden weather beaten houses that filled all the seaside towns. Before I knocked on the door, I actually did stop, to write down the license plates of a bunch of cars parked outside. I had a bad feeling, about this one. And I was right.

These guys were trouble, right from the start. They were not only drunk, but seemed high, on other drugs, like cocaine. Mostly Italian, very good looking, and well built, like the guidos on that jersey shore sitcom, all with really fresh mouths. Mixed ages, but mostly in their 20's. It was crowded. The place reeked of spilled beer. They had put the bachelor in a chair, and I started dancing in front of him. At one point, when I bent over, wearing just a G string, he bit my ass. That was the first, and last time, anyone touched me. I spun around, and faced him, furious. He had his legs spread open, with shorts on. I picked up my leg, and placed my foot on his balls, shoving my very pointy heeled stiletto into his crotch. His friends oohed and ahhed, and howled with delight. I picked up my boom box, and clothes, demanded my pay, and just left.

That was it, for me. I had been pushing my luck, for a long time.

The take away? That while I had remained sober, the entire time, I was hardly living a serene life. I had lived my life on the edge, since I was 14, and craved excitement like an addict craved whatever made him or her ..escape reality. I never really realized that, until now.