I realize that I haven't written in a week. My resolution was to write something everyday. I think in order for this to work for me, I have decided to alternate each day: one day write something from my past, the next in present tense. This will be a "past day".
So, why the Pink Poodle in San Jose? There are a few reasons. 1.) Ever since I was around 9 yrs. old I wanted to be a go-go dancer. My parents had me enrolled in tap classes, some ballet and we had folk dancing (lol, right?) at my grade school. However, these didn't last. Both of my parents were working professionals and for some reason, they seemed to hire nannies that couldn't drive. So no more dance classes por moi. Instead, I would practice in my room in front of the mirror. My dad watched a show called "Laugh-In". They had go-go dancers on it between sketches, like in Austin Powers. One of the dancers was Goldie Hawn. I wanted to be her when I grew up. 2.) Dancing made me happy. I also knew it would keep me fit. My dad was/is over weight and always seemed so unhappy and grouchy. At a fairly young age, he started to look like the nerdy guy from "Office Space". (The one who ended up getting his office moved to the basement). In my young mind, I equated being out of shape, slovenly and over-weight with unhappiness. I was determined not to be fat and unhappy. 3.) Sometimes on weekends, we had family excursions. This would consist of going to some fast food place for dinner and then the drive-in (yes, drive-in) for a film with scratchy sound. We would always drive past the Pink Poodle. I was fascinated by the sign. Why did it say "girls" or "adult entertainment"? What was the difference between entertainment for kids and adults? I asked my parents once and my dad was really mad and just said I was too young and wouldn't understand:-( (My grandmother, his mom, was "married" around 8 times and died apparently from choking from being too drunk and sick at the age of 42. I was 5 when she passed. She was nice to me. But, yes dad has understandable issues).
But the main reason was 4.): Sexual harassment in the work place and not being able to find a job in the field of my choice.
The first college I went to was a fashion trade school. I think I had ADD when I was younger ( still do, but more under control) but at that time, this condition was not recognized. I graduated, but not with honors. The job placement program was not the greatest and my jobs were more like temporary gigs. So I moved back to Los Angeles and pushed my resumes in the garment district for jobs in showrooms. I landed more than one. My first one, my boss tried so hard to get me to sleep with him. He even showed me a polaroid of his penis! (This guy was so not attractive: he was a short, chubby, hairy gnome in his mid-forties. I was 20). I did learn things from him. But finally, he left me to run the showroom for a week while he went to Vegas to sell cocaine. Yeah, he offered me drugs too.
While he was gone, I stole the petty cash and the office supplies I needed to find a better job. I did find one that lasted for well over a year. A company out of Australia. They were great, but the business didn't last. They were a young company (my boss was 25) and all of them were heavily into the hollywood party scene. They never tried to pay me in drugs, but I was offered all the time. This combined with the pressure to stay thin in the fashion industry, fueled my recreational addiction that would last for nearly 8 years.
After that came a lot of short term show room jobs. One guy wanted to pay me in cocaine. Yeah, like I can pay my rent with that. Another wrote me checks that bounced. So this glamourous field I choose was just full of buttheads that sexually harassed me, trying to cheat me out of money and there was nothing I could really do about it.
I moved back up north to transfer to a state college and finish a business degree and minored in theater. I really wanted to get into radio at the time, but it was hard. It was still a boys club and I wasn't traditionally cute enough to break through. I tried getting jobs at record stores (CD's wouldn't be out for a couple of years) but I couldn't get hired. Not even with a degree! So, back to fashion. Teaching at Barbizon Modeling School. (Don't laugh).
I actually liked it there and made some great friends and learned some cool stuff. But...it was part time. I was living at home and my younger sister made my life hell. Her boyfriend had a scholarship to Humbolt. His mom drank a lot, so my dad took pity on him and let him move in. He got MY ROOM!! He was also pretty religious. Which made my little sister religious. She wouldn't speak to me and I had to share a room with her. One night she locked me out!
Ok, so I got this part-time job, which won't pay me enough to get out of my parent's house. I would love to get another job, but nobody else would hire me. The Pink Poodle was starting to look like a possibility. (I'm not sure if I mentioned it in one of my other blogs, but I had a temp job in which I was just filing and had to wear panty hose and nobody would talk to me. Then one of my full time co-workers got into an accident and went into a coma. This was another reason for the poodle. Oh and the seemingly awesome temp job I got in a wherehouse as a receptionist. Apparently, my temp boss did not like my "New Wave" sense of fashion, so he gave me a bad review and I was replaced. In reality, I was a very good worker. One of my friends there was an aspiring writer. We came from the same temp agency. My name came up, and he was told by one of the temp managers, that apparently my work performance was so bad, that I was a bad hiring choice. He told them the truth about me. I started getting more calls from the agency, but by that time, I was making bank at the PP!)