Entry184

(I have edited a few names, a place, and my method for
recalling trances and such, but the rest is straight from
the journal.)

   I got back an hour and ten minutes ago, and I haven’t
pieced things together by using my (omitted), but this is
what I know.
   I know my feet are wet.
   I went to the bathroom in a small dirty bathroom. I
really kind of realized myself while flushing. I stood, to
freshen up in what was left of the mirror on the wall. The
little bulb really wasn’t bright enough to check your
makeup, but in this case it was easy.
   I had wild hair- teased and sprayed, and it smelled like
cigarettes. I had a dark tan, from a darker Covergirl than I
usually use. I own it, but I haven’t used it in months. Well
that’s not true now I guess. Thick mascara and overdone
blush, and a sparkly ruby lipstick with lip liner, and! My
eyes were done up, with a sort of a purplish blue in the
insides, and becoming sort of a slivery yellow to the
outsides, swooping up past my eyebrows. I stared at that for
5 minutes easy, cuz, it was a wild look, not me at all, and
it was professionally done. How weird is that?
   I was wearing a rayon blouse; wide stripes up and down I
mean vertical, black bright blue and bright red. I suppose
it was nice, but in a cheap way. It has a large collar like
a seventies’ thing going on. My pearl colored fingernails
were still there, but I have no idea where the red fake
leather skirt came from. It wasn’t even a latex, it was like
“Not-a-hide” or whatever, cheap, and spotted with mud like
from cars. I almost expected to see fishnets but I had on my
black stocks with the lacy thigh ring. I wish they’d been
higher or the trashy miniskirt a hair longer. The little
black plastic heels with the narrow 3-inch heels were on me
and I haven’t seen them since I danced in Florida last
summer at the erotic dance contest with my friends. My feet
had mud on them as did my hose, and I was kinda wet and
definitely cold.
   I asked the Chinese lady or Korean, whatever, running the
gas station, and she said I was at Hwy 97, near Lexington! I
was scared. I was cold. And the two men trying to pool their
money to buy a pack of cigarettes were like slobbering on
themselves. OK, that’s kinda neat in a dark way, but I
wasn’t feeling neat. The only thing on that road right there
are three or four small family owned hotels or motels. I am
terrified but I need to go back there, dressed similarly, at
around the same time, and see if anyone recognizes me, and
find out more.
   I called Jen at the dive club and Jaro wanted to know if
I was coming in to dance. I said no, and asked Jen to come
and get me. Jaro said she couldn’t leave or she’d be fired,
unless, , , He’s a bastard but I needed to get home! So I
said yes, I would dance. Jen’s little hoopty, she calls it
her “ho” (it’s a Honda) sputtered into the parking lot
around the time a policeman was asking me why I was there,
and how “business” had been. I have never felt so
humiliated.
   Jen freaked at the way I was dressed. I told her the
whole story, and she said she’d ask some dancers she knew
that escorted too, and learn anything about those motels.
Jaro freaked at my dress too- but soooo not the same way! He
said I could dance in that, and I was afraid to borrow
anyone’s stuff there- not a hygienic group there, like in
Florida. Fortunately it was almost one, so I danced for an
hour or so, made fifteen dollars, got two free drinks, and
turned down a lapdance, “cuz I wasn’t on the clock” passing
him off to Tease for an easy ten dollars- ick.
   I think I had been walking or dancing a while in those
shoes before the gas station, and I think I had been wearing
the skirt for a little while, at least somewhere warm cuz
(omitted). I also think I had sex, and that’s the only
reason this hasn’t turned into an intensely erotic event- I
kinda like to know when I’m having sex, or else it’s like
rape or pimping or whatever.
   NOTE TO SELF: Jen said call Guy at the “motel” and ask
him about the blue thread.