For whatever reason God intended, his amusement or mine, I’ve lived most of my adult life with women who were employed in the adult entertainment industry. Call em what you will, stripper’s, pole dancer’s, burlesque queens, performance artists. They all shared the same trait, taking their clothes off for a living. I’ve always dug the stripper for many reasons. I guess the first being the fact that they’re cool to hang out with and usually as a rule not fuckin bad to look at. Plus one can’t forget the buck nekked thing they had going on. And way the fuck back in the day when I got my right eye cut out in a bar fight? It was a stripper who got to me first and started the first aid on my fucked up ass. One of my most loved stripper roommates was Chris. I first met Chris when I bounced at the LoneStar in Westport. We got to talkin and I found out that I knew her parents from way back when I ran a liquor store south of the Mason-Dixon line. So it was like we’d known each other for years. It was just after I’d purchased the big ass house on the trafficway when I asked her did she want to move in. A week later I woke up one morning and there she was passed out in one of the bedrooms. I think we had a lot of fun together, she had her life and I had mine and we enjoyed each other’s company, plus with three floors and six bedrooms there was more then enough room to get out of each other’s way. Chris was one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known. She bartended at night and went to Collage during the day. I found her transcript one day and learned that she made the Dean’s list every year she was in school. She spoke French like she lived there and wrote it as well. One of the things we’d do for fun was to come home and jump into bed and query each other from the New York desk reference manual. Of course I was shitfaced and she was stoned, but it was fun all the same. She also had the most fucked up appetite I’d ever seen. One day I brought home a slab of ribs and had to run back out to the store for cokes and shit. When I came home twenty or so minutes later the slab was fuckin history. It was like, what the fuck just happened here? Where’s my food? I was to find that for a chick packing less then 130 on her ass she could harm some shit. If she had nothing to do she’d drop a whole turkey in a pot and sit in front of the TV cross-legged holding her pot of turkey and eat that whole muthafucker to the bone. And fuck buffets, I took her to one for dinner one night and I swear to God I watched her eat for two solid hours. Not just pickin at her food but plate after plate of food. There was fucker’s coming out of the shittin kitchen just to watch. When she finally finished I had to help her ass to the car. Girl had skills. More on Chris to come. Peace