It wasn't like the movies.It wasn't like the movies. I never worked for any really nice people. Never for a woman who was like some `TV mom' who wanted to take me into their home and take care of me. Just hard working people who wanted me to work hard, too. The problem was always sex. SEX? WHAT DO YOU MEAN? Well, you see how I look, right? YES. OF COURSE. Well, either the guy running the place (and one time it was the woman) or a customer would get to the point where they couldn't keep their hands off me. It never failed to happen. I'd get my boobs grabbed in the back room or told I had to fuck him to get my pay and I'd split. See, I was innocent, but not stupid. I knew what they wanted and being forced into something like that would wreck this sense of security I had built up for myself. And my security was all that I had. I wasn't a virgin -- I had had a boyfriend in tenth grade -- but this wasn't the same. Does any of this make sense to you? SURE. I UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU'RE SAYING, SANDY. YOU HAD SET UP BOUNDARY LINES AROUND YOURSELF, AND THE SEXUAL HARASSMENT CROSSED THOSE LINES. Exactly! Anyway, that's when I'd split. Sometimes getting my last paycheck, sometimes not. So, by now, I just had my 17th birthday and I'm out of work, again. And each time it seems to get harder and harder to find that next job. |