I realize it's been a month since I've posted. The site I was supposed to be published in didn't work out:-( I have to admit it this derailed me a bit from writing. Enough about the present, I have a past to write about.
Leaving San Francisco was a culture shock for me. I was brought up in the suburbs for the most part. However, living in England as a child, going to school in "San Fran" and Los Angeles left an impression on me. I had become an "urban gorilla". Going back to the suburbs made me feel like I failed to achieve goals. Still, I needed the change. My partying in the city was ruining me.
I moved in with the two Bobs at the faux beach in the Willow Glen neighborhood of San Jose, CA. Hawt Bob and I were infatuated with each other. He dumped his long time girl friend for me. I never met her personally, but I heard she was a sweet girl. I stole her man from her, not a great accomplishment. Hawt Bob delivered fish for a living. Yup, fish. There is nothing wrong with this. It was just a change for me. Going from dating law students, medical students, attorneys and male models to, well, fish.
It turns out the Bobs loved cooking, having people over and (you knew this was coming), throwing parties. What is that old saying? Jumping from the frying pan into the fire? Something like that. It was very difficult to detox in that environment.
He did take care of me for a couple of weeks. He cooked for me and nursed me back to physical health. (I wasn't quite healed mentally).
Eventually, I needed to start working. I knew I didn't want to dance naked any more. I found a little local bar called Richard's Lounge. It was owned by a very large, amiable, Canadian man, Richard Brazil. This little place was located in Sunnyvale,CA. (This is where Macbooks came from,kids). This was a very small lounge with an elongated full bar, a small rectangular stage and I believe there was a pool table in the back. There was usually 3 dancers on a shift. We worked seven hour shifts. Since we danced in bikinis, they had a full bar. (No nudity and alcohol in California). We danced a couple of songs on stage, picked from a jukebox. Then we would do these little dances for a minute or so for the individual man and/or woman. They would tip us directly. They were allowed to stick the money on to the edge of our bikini bottoms. I found out later that most of the money was being tipped into the bikini bottoms.
This was to be my second home for the next 8 years.