Speaker 1: What's up, everyone, and welcome to another episode of the
Epstein Chronicles. In this episode, we're picking up where we
left off with the Virginia Roberts memoir The Billionaire's Playboy Club.
It didn't take me long to get back into my
own comfort zone, heading straight back to my cabana after
dessert was served, nearly tripping over my own feet as
I tried to scuttle off in a hurry. As soon
as I entered my domain, I drew a breath inside,
a deep exhale outwards, Finally alone and at peace for
now at least. Although the sun had set hours ago,
the high temperature of the Caribbean were still an affliction
plaguing my cabana. I was welcomed by a rush of
warm airror as I opened the door. I hit the
switch to the fan and stripped down for a shower.
Preparing my towel and toilet trees, I opened the back
door to the outside shower and placed them on the floor.
Whether I was cleaning up in the midst of a
hot day or retiring for the evening, an outside shower
was all way splendid under the thick, dark cloak of
the night sky. Only the moon and stars to shed
enough light for me to see my way around. I
could feel the soft breeze lick droplets falling off of
my body's curves in the reflection of the moonlight. It
only encouraged me to stay longer under the warmth from
the spray of rushing water. I let the hot water
run out before I was sufficed enough to go back inside.
Lounging around the bed and my panties in a tank top,
I was still sweltering from the heat, trying to tire
myself out. I did some reading and eventually fell asleep.
I needed those times to unwind after such an ordeal.
Letting the xanax wash away all of my pain, I
could then forgive the mistakes I had made, blaming myself
for staying around. For this, I had wished I had
never been born at all. The pills would take all
of that away from me. My heart was tangled in
a weave of deception and pain, only reassured by the
lies that were told to me, and the lies I
would have to convince myself. When we flew back into
Palm Beach, Juan drove me back to my apartment lonely,
for some companionship. I decided to call an old friend.
I was longing to be important to someone, and unfortunately,
with such little time to have a social life of
my own, I was compelled to call TJ again. His
mom answered the phone and sounded quite surprised to hear
my voice on the other end. She was always kind
to me. I even used to bring her back kolacans
from other countries, a bizarre hobby she loved collecting. She
just didn't know what to say or what I saw
on her son, even saying that to his face many
times over. Not blind to his ways of cheating and stealing,
being a personal victim of it, she made it a
parent that he did not approve of TJ's choice and
a lifestyle. It used to really hurt him how his
parents thought so badly of him, so he gave up
trying to earn their love a long time ago. As
long as he didn't steal from them anymore, he was
allowed to live there. Instead of that being a lesson
to him, he would just try to be more clever
and what he would steal less obvious things. He would
steal the toaster and sell it for five dollars if
he knew it would help him get his next high. Nonetheless,
and at my expense, I had a sweet spot for him.
With enough water under the bridge, I was able to
forget about the troubles he caused. His mom told me
she'd passed on the message when he got home, but
that could be days from now. The last time he
had been home was a couple of weeks now. He
only stopped by to get something to eat, have a
long sleep, and beg for a few bucks, supposedly to
help him buy food. Then he was off again without
a single word, only leaving his parents with their own assumptions,
which were pretty much correct anyway. I then called around
a couple of mutual friends to see if anyone had
heard from him. Everyone I spoke to pointed their finger
in the same direction and the worst place possible, Richie's house.
One of his best friends told me how he bad
he'd been doing. He's not the same guy anymore, and
all he cares about is his next hie and where
he gets it. If we don't get anything for him,
he just loses it and goes off somewhere. It was
hard to hear how badly affected my best friend was
and a part of me secretly hoped they weren't right.
Still defending him, I told everyone I had spoke to
while trying to find him that TJ would be fine.
He's just probably going through a bad phase like we
all do sometimes, and he needs people to have his
back more now than ever. I was pretty much laughed
at on the spot. Most people that I considered my
friends at the time were only friends by association. As
long as we all looked the part, acted the part,
and could handle the part, only then did they want
to be around us. The last person I called was
the last person I had hoped he wasn't with, and
it turned out that everyone was right. He was one
of the biggest coke dealers in our area, Richie Rich,
as everyone used to call him. He didn't look like
a typical, strung out junkier dealer. Instead, he looked like
your average preppy college grad with aspiring propositions. He dressed
well and acted like a nice guy to the eminent clients,
only to get them hooked on his drugs and then
turns them in and onto the streets. He was a businessman,
and his business was thriving. He carried everything from the
most dangerous drugs to guns and knives. Having ears in
all places made him dangerous acquaintance, using kids off the
local Palm Beach street to run his dirty errands and
the errands of the others above him. He made his
money by using these teenagers, who, as hard as it
was to believe, was once somebody sweet child. I knew
TJ didn't have his finances to support himself or his
drug habit, so the likelihood of him being indebted to
Richie in other ways was a safe assumption. Obtaining Richie's
number from one of TJ's friends, Marcus, he asked me,
what do you want to call Richie for? Come over
to my place and I can get you whatever you want.
Marcus was a sleeves bag who would tirelessly continue to
try to appeal to my lesser sense of judgment, never
getting the hint or not, just caring that I could
never would never be interested in him. No thanks, Marcus,
Can I just get the number pleased? It's very important
that I get a hold of TJ. I'm really worried
about him. I hated having to call this guy, let
alone ask him for something. Is this about the Adam bullshit?
Because if it is, you can let him know what
a fucking bitch he is for not showing up to
be there for him. You can tell him that from me,
and that it's his fault and he should have been there,
and it should have been him that's lying in the
morgue now, not Adam. I was totally thrown off by
his allegation. I could only mutter out a whisper. Did
you just say that Adam's dead? What happened? Oh? Snap?
I thought you knew where you've been? Girl under a
rock or something. Marcus was less than sensitive about his statements.
He got shot in the head by two black guys
who got suspicious when their usual supplier didn't show up.
Your boy, TJ was so fucked up he didn't even
remember to turn up at Richie's for the delivery. So
Richie sent Adam alone, and now he's dead. Adam was
a sweet kid who had just happened to be born
living on the wrong block. Best friends with TJ s childhood,
The two were inseparable until puberty hit, and then they
would chase girls together, and Adam followed in TJ's every footstep,
mimicking his shadow. If TJ jumped off the Eiffel Tower.
Then so would Adam. So then TJ got hooked on drugs. Consequently,
Adam did too, leading ultimately to his death. Wanting to
end the conversation with Marcus quickly, I scribbled down the
number on the blank piece of paper in front of
me and hung up the phone call. And then I
called Richie's place immediately. Yeah, it was Richie, who bluntly
answered the phone after the first ring. Hi, uh, rich
it's Jenna, TJ's X. We met a couple of times
at a few parties. I was trying to remind him
of who I was, knowing how paranoid he was about
people having his number. Oh yeah, I know who you are.
What is it that you want, he answered with a
dry tone. I was hoping you could tell me where
I could find TJ. I've heard some stuff and I'm
really worried about him. Is he all right? Richie snickered
at my concerns. Where he was mom or Something's fine?
He should be back here around five o'clock. I'll tell
him you called in the middle of me saying thank
you and goodbye. He hung up the phone. As there
is no room for manners. In his line of work.
I waited until five o'clock, watching the minutes on the
clock tick by, and when five o'clock came and passed
with no phone call, I couldn't deny to myself that
I wasn't stricken with distress. Falling asleep wasn't easy either.
I ended up crashing out on my sofa watching TV,
half expecting to hear another murder on the news, and
it being TJ forgetting to put on my eyemask before
I went to bed. I was woken up the next
morning by rays of the sun beaming into my living room.
When I sleep, I am a creature of darkness, avoided
any window light at all costs, staggering to the coffee pot,
not used to getting up this early. My first thought
that day was TJ and why he hadn't called. A
million thoughts rushed through my head like a steam train.
Is he okay? Is he not calling because he's still
mad from our last breakup as he moved on to
someone else? Is he in trouble? Did Richie even pass
on my message? The thoughts were an endless infliction, consuming
my entire day, until finally he called my cell phone
later in the afternoon. Relief swept over me when I
heard his voice on the other end. Thank god you called.
I've been so worried about you. Are you all right?
I jumped in without letting him know or get pass,
saying hello, Yeah, I'm fine. Richie told me you called
his house looking for me yesterday and gave me shit
for saying you were upset or something. What's up? I
knew I would have to dedicate about asking what happened
to Adam, thinking he'd be a mess over it. I
heard from Marcus that something happened to Adam, and I
got worried about you. What's going on? TJ? TJ sounded
scared for what reasons were beyond my knowledge, but I
was going to find out, He replied, I don't want
to talk about it over the phone. Are you in
town so we can meet up or something? It was
obvious I wanted him to know that I was more
than willing to let me shoulder for his problem. I'm
home now if you want to come over whenever you
feel like it. He didn't hesitate, and taking me up
on the offer. But I won't be able to get
there until later. I'm downtown at Richie's place unless you
want to come pick me up. It was more of
a request than a favor to myself, which is what
he was making it out to sound like. Knowing him
all too well, I didn't make a fuss of his
ill contemplated attributes. I got the address off him and
made my way into the ugliness of the not so
dazzling parts upon Beaches downtown area, rolling up my windows
and locking the doors to my truck, I nervously drove
down the rough streets trying to find Richie's apartment complex,
knowing all too well his history of the area. It's
not a place a lone white girl in a nice
truck wants to be seen. Many reports of the locals
rushing up the vehicles with a weapon, demanding money, cars,
or just angry and out to hurt someone. I was
speeding through the streets, wanting to get out of there
as quick as I could. A sad world we live in,
with so much hurt everywhere you look, and nobody wanting
to do anything about it. Just accepting the hopelessness of
never being able to achieve anything more than what our
civilization has to come to. Being among one of these
people We were similar in so many ways, only separated
by our personal fears in the different direction they pulled
us into. I drove straight through the open gates at
the entrance to the complex and parked on the gutter
in front of Richie's block of units. Crowded people stood
outside the block as I was entering, being hit on
and offered drugs simultaneously. My cheeks went flush and I
put my head down, not saying a word. Walking up
the corridors of the staircase looked like a scene out
of a horror flick. Graffiti covered the peeling of green
paint on the walls, and the pungent stench of something
rotting only to the worst of my imagination filled my nostrils.
I could hear baby screaming through the thin walls, and
trying to find the unit number was difficult from the
sporadic flicker of the fluorescent lights above me. At last,
I found Richie's one, quite astonished with myself that I
even made it this far. I had to knock loudly
on the door a few times before a young girl
answered the door with eyeliner bleeding down from her eyes.
Her jet black hair was strung out and a mess,
and she looked off her face on some hard drugs.
She had only her brawn and a short skirt to
cover her private areas, and a cigarette hung out of
her mouth to complete the full picture of terrible state
she was in. She looked me down and up with
a contempt and snubbed at me, what do you want?
I maintain my politeness and told her TJ was expecting me.
She opened the door and walked away, leaving me by
myself to venture through looking for TJ. All right, folks,
you're going to wrap up right here and in the
next episode dealing with the topic, we're gonna pick up
where we left off. All of the information that goes
with this episode can be found in the description box.
What's up, everyone, and welcome to another episode of the
Epstein Chronicles. In this episode, we're diving right back in
to Virginia Robert's memoir a Billionaire playboys club. Passing through
the kitchen, it looked like a hospital lab, with syringes
on the countertop and medicine containers lying around everywhere. Minding
my steps through the dirty house, I walked to the
back of the living room and found TJ and a
k hole strung out on a filthy couch. Hey there,
he acknowledged me with a giant smile spread across his face.
He probably didn't even know who I am or who
I was from the dreadful state that he was in.
My first look at him in months, and I was
in utter shock. My jaw must have dropped to the
floor at the very sight of him. Never seeing him
so skinny and unhealthy looking, I took pity, and I
wanted to help him before things got even worse and
he ended up like Adam dead. TJ. Hey, buddy, it's Jenna.
Remember I was coming to pick you up today. You
don't look so good. What are you doing so messed up?
I don't think he could even understand what I was
even saying, because he could only reply by giggling and
rolling over, patting the couch as if it were a
fluffy animal. I stood over him now and raised my
voice so he'd know I was serious and snap out
of it a bit. Get up, TJ. Now, I ushered
at him and to get him off the couch, repeated
myself a few times over, and with no response, I
knew I had to get physical, rolling him back over
to face me again. I smacked his face hard, and
I'm sure it's stung, but I got the reaction I
had wanted. He sat up and looked at me, confused.
At least now he was able to focus on my
words requesting him to come with me. He was just
getting up from the couch and stumbling around before falling
down to the floor again. Putting his arms around my
neck and carrying the majority of his weight, I helped
him up many times, over and down three flights of stairs,
into my truck and drove him back to my place.
It was a triumph on its own, arriving downstairs in
one piece. Being the only person who really cared if
TJ lived or died, I felt like it was my
responsibility of helping him, and it was my concern alone. Thankfully,
Jeffrey was in Palm Beach for the next couple of
days or weeks entertaining royalty, which gave me a little
bit of time to try and clean TJ up. I
called a few of his friends that I knew, and
I asked them not to score any drugs for him,
pleading with them and telling them that he was on
the brink of death. Reminding them of their friendship between us,
all that once existed before the drugs corrupted so many
of us. Some of them laughed, telling me I was
wasting my time with TJ, and others were nice enough
to at least lie to my face politely and promise
not to help him feed his addiction. I just wanted
to remedy all of his pain and problems, but I
felt so helpless fighting his battle against the streets. I
bought some marijuana for him to smoke, hoping to subside
the withdrawals he was facing over the next few days,
but with no avail. The only thing that would help
him was my xanax. A few of those pills, and
he would go back to sleep, only waking up to
get more of them. I would have to force him
out of bed to take a shower once a day
and make sure that he ate something. He was more
like a baby right now than he was a boyfriend,
too much in need of something I couldn't give. When
I went to see Jeffrey over the next course of days,
he picked out the dilemma I wore spread across my
face straight away. You're back with TJ, aren't you. It
was so funny that he knew me so well. Yeah,
he's in a real bad place in his life right now,
and he needs my help. He looked astonished and replied,
you're a much better friend than I am. I know
people like him, and trust me, they never change. No
use in even trying, I believed him to, knowing I
was stupid for even attempting to change DJ, But my
heart felt differently. He was still a human being and
a good friend of mine, just down at his worst.
That's what good friends are for. I laughed back at
his remark, not wanting to take this conversation too much further.
I admire your loyalty at least, but take my word
for it, he will hurt you again. His words were
chilling but true. I had to find out for myself.
Though almost seeming like an actual friend for a second,
he ruined his brief momentary image by turning over from
the unfinished massage that I was giving him and acquired
his sexual longings from my worn down soul. Not only
did he know that I didn't want to endure any
more demands tonight, but his energy enhanced from knowing it too.
Looking up at him during the foreplay, it was easy
observation from the look in my eyes that I hated
every minute of it, seething through all of my duties
until he climaxed. Most days I could take this kind
of treatment. It was only seldom I couldn't hold it
in the way Jeffrey disregarded my feelings. He had me
just where he wanted me, like a pawn piece on
a checker's board. I was his own personal sex slave.
For the remainder of the evening, I stayed quiet, not
sure of what to say after an episode like that.
It was a vigorous display of how calculating he could
really be. He required me to clean up his spilled
seamen off of his genitals with a warm washcloth before
he retired to his bedroom for a good night's sleep,
only a monstrous creep. Sleep easy at night, knowing what
pain he caused others. I went downstairs and asked Wan,
who was still in the kitchen, to pay me for
the evening, telling him that Jeffrey had gone to sleep
for the night. It wasn't an unusual request. Wan would
often have to fix up the girls after the sessions,
and sometimes even drive them home. He went to Jeffrey's desk,
and underneath was a duffel bag that was always held
with an insurmountable bundle of CRISP one hundred dollars bills.
He took out two for me and handed them over.
I thanked him and said good night, as I was
always polite to Wan and his wife Maria. His eyes
were gentle and told me that he was allowed to say.
I understood, well. We all needed to eat and pay bills, unfortunately,
even sometimes at our own moral expense. Putting the keys
in the ignition, I started up the engine and reversed
out of Jeffrey's driveway with promptness. I didn't want to
be there a moment longer than I had to be.
Not much to look forward to getting back to my
apartment either. I needed some time to filter my emotions.
Parking my truck in front of the nearby beach, I
took my shoes off, gradually stepping out of the door
into the fog. I walked down to the edge of
the sand, where the water licked my toes. My life
was slipping away from me, and I was really beginning
to question the difference between living and dying. I was
so tired of everything. My whole existence revolved around being
everything to everyone, forgetting about being something for myself altogether,
Pretending to be someone else became an attribute I was
better than good at, probably much of why Jeffrey liked
me in the first place. This time, I held back
my tears and only let the anger fester into a
deep pit into my stomach. My rage was aimed at
the very people who abandoned me to offend for myself
in the first place, and accepted this life as normal
for me, my parents. When I got back to my apartment,
I was expecting to have to look after TJ, but
to my surprise, he had come around good at that night.
He agreed me at the door and ask me how
my evening was. It was all fine. I easily lied.
I never let anyone inside close enough to see my vulnerabilities.
They were mine alone to battle in my head. They
were too shameful to talk about anyway. He wanted to
talk about something else. Sitting down at the dining room table,
he began his spiel. I know you don't think much
of me anymore. How could you? I'm a junkie who
steals and sells drugs for a living but I promise
that's all going to change now. Adam is dead because
of me, and the only way I can make up
for it to him is to get away from it all.
I promise that things are going to get better. It
was a convincing talk, but I knew him all too well.
His demon inside yearned for him to fail. But who
was I to second guess him out loud? I could
only try to give him hope. No one's perfect, DJ,
at least you're trying now, and that's all that matters
to me. I'm so proud of you. I gave him
a sincere hug and kissed him for the first time
in a long time. I love you, he said to me,
and return my life back. We slept in the bed
together that night and were officially back together. Two days later,
I was gone again, beckoned to Santa fe Gleayne only
told me I was to meet someone there. Not sure
of whom that was. It wasn't my place to ask questions.
As far as I knew, it could be anyone, and
I had no choice but to be compliant to their needs.
It was the middle of the day when I arrived
at the airport. One of the ranchands came to pick
me up in a big war truck that smelled like
dirt and sweat, but I didn't mind. That's what I
loved about the countryside. When we arrived at the mansion,
my guest was already there waiting for me. I couldn't
wipe the look off my face. As he turned around
from the bookshelf that he was standing at. Hello, the
same old cheesy grin greeted me once again. It was
His Highness, Prince Andrew, and what a sight. He wrapped
his arms around my waist and greeted me like an
old friend. I hugged him back, rolling my eyes at
the same time, already dreading what lay in store over
the next couple of days. My job was to entertain
them endlessly, whether that meant having to bestow them any
of my body during an erotic massage or simply take
a horseback riding. For the next couple of days, he
was to be my only concern, but he wasn't. I
called in checking on TJ a few times a day,
not wanting to be a nag, but just hoping he
hadn't had any thoughts about relapsing. He was doing great,
even applying for a couple of jobs. Being reassured by
him made my time away less complicated, and, thankfully, with
the help of my ever ready xanax, I was able
to cope with the ordeal. The mansion was completely empty,
save a couple of maids who also cooked our dinners
for us, and a couple of bodyguards that we hardly
even saw at all. The time dragged by slowly for me,
as I was counting down the hours until I flew
away again anywhere but here, I thought. It wasn't easy
meeting the sexual desires of these strange men, the Prince
being one of them. He loved my feet and even
in between my toes. Then there was the lack of
passion in the intimacy we shared. To him, I was
just another girl and to me he was just another job.
Not the right reasons to be together, But I thought,
in this world and to these monsters, there didn't need
to be a reason. To them, it's nothing but a
reenactment of their personal fantasies. To me, a living nightmare. Thankfully,
one of Jeffrey's assistants from New York called me on
my cell phone in the morning on the second day
to fill me in on my next adventure. I had
a flight booked for me to leave that afternoon to
arrive at LaGuardia Airport in the evening. Even though I
had to go back to he had another controlling man,
I was still relieved. At least I was used to
the confinements of Jeffrey's control. In some twisted way, he
was more comforting than these strangers he sent me to
overlooking the city of New York. As the plane landed,
felt like I was flying from one cage to another,
and trapped by falling victim to the predators that lured
me into the closure. I didn't know how I would
ever get out again. The deep pit in my stomach
began to churn again, a physical reaction to the anxiety
I was played with. Before getting off the plane, I
touched up my makeup to hide any signs of the
frailty that I was feeling. All right, folks, we're gonna
wrap up right here and to the next episode. We're
gonna pick up where we left off. All of the
information that goes with this episode can be found in
the description box. What's up, everyone, and welcome to another
episode of the Epstein chronicles. In this episode, we're picking
up where we left off with the Virginia Roberts memoir
The Billionaire's Playboy Club. Jojo met me at the arrival
terminal and picked up my luggage for me. He never
said much at all, nodding to any reciprocating conversation. I
don't think he could really speak that good of English. Anyway,
It was better for me, as I preferred the quietness
of the moment. He opened the back door for me
and we headed off for my next prison cell. When
we got to Jeffrey's mansion on seventy second Street, the
place looked empty. I walked up the staircase to Jeffrey's
office and he wasn't there. Feeling a bit hungry, I
walked back down to where the kitchen was. I opened
the fridge and found some leftovers that Adam Jeffrey chef
had cooked. I loved his cooking when it wasn't filled
with bean sprouts and tofu. He used to make the
best pizza upon request, or whenever he was cooking seafood,
which he knew I hated. He had an honest appeal
about him and never even took notice when on many occasions,
us girls would be prancing around topless, sometimes even stark
naked around the pool or the beach. He would have
to serve us our meals and would do it with
such a casual professionalism, never making anyone uneasy at any occasion.
And she's talking about Adam Perry Lang right there, folks,
friends with Jimmy Kimmel and somebody that's been on the
Joe Rogan Show. Before halfway through my meal, the kitchen
door swung open, and incoming was Jeffrey and Glane, choking
down my bite of food. I got up from my
seat and I kissed them both on the cheeks. Hi, guys,
how are you? I greeted them, and Golayne answered for
them both good. Good, Sit down and finish your meal.
Don't let us interrupt you. I hated eating alone in
front of people. Chewing food and maintaining a conversation at
the same time didn't give off the best look. I
was just finishing anyways. Can I get you, guys anything?
Maybe a tear or something. Always playing my part another
reason to keep me around. I guess I went beyond
the call of duty, and after the last period with them,
I had been reminded of my place. Yes, I'll take one,
Glaine stated, Jeffrey, how about you? Anything I can get
for you? I asked again, any answered no thanks. We
just date and I'm still full. And they sat down
together on the stools at the kitchen bench. I got
out the shiny red kettle from the cupboard, knowing my
way all too well around the kitchen, and put it
over the hot stove plate. Turning around to face them,
I thought they were acting peculiar, So Golaine started the conversation,
how was the ranch with the prince. It was a
natural reaction for me to blush, knowing exactactly what she
was referring to. Keeping busy preparing the cup of tea
and avoiding eye contact with both of them, I started
to unpack the counter where I had been eating. I
think he had a really good time. He seemed relaxed
during the trip, and when we said goodbye to each other,
he gave me a kiss. I went on to tell
them what we did together. I took him horseback riding,
nowhere too far, just around the property. We went swimming
in the pool, and of course I gave him plenty
of massages. He had a massage at least a couple
times a day, really seeming to enjoy his time there.
It's what they wanted to hear, not the truth of
how disgusting I had felt over the whole thing. But
they already knew the truth anyways. It's what they had
trained me for in the first place. Like two proud parents.
They both looked over at me with such content. Good
you really did well, Jeffrey complimented me. Turning around the
boiling kettle. I finished Glaine's tea for her, and the
conversation led on to other subjects. We all ventured up
to Jeffrey's office and out came the infamous Duffel bag
that when and wherever he did. I was given close
to one thousand dollars for my time in Santa Fe,
more than what I thought anybody in my young age
could make for a couple of days work. It was
fulfilling the obscene, vulgar needs of the so called privilege
that earned me so much. I spent the next few
days in New York, venturing out to do some shopping therapy.
I love the eccentric parts of the city. Every street
was different, but the same energetic vibe filled all of them,
animated with all different walks of life. Hanging out at
coffee shops reading the newspaper or a good book was
a favorite pastime while in the Big Apple, being close
enough to get back to Jeffrey for what he needed,
but also far enough to get away from it all.
Most of the days I slipped by without being missed,
and I made my way back to Jeffrey's. Making one
last pit stop, I walked into an old bookshop to
browse at their assortment of old titles. I wasn't in
any hurry, so I took my time reading the backs
of interesting looking books. I bumped in to a girl
looking down the same aisle. I was down. Sorry, I'm
so clumsy. She was apologizing for my mistake. No, no,
it was my fault. I wasn't looking at where I
was going. I get so wrapped up with my nose
in a book and trip over my own feet if
I'm not careful enough. We were both giggling now, and
I further introduced myself to her. Her name was Valerie
or Vicky or something like that. Anyway, she was a
student at school for hair dressing nearby, chatting away both
young and similar interests in each other's choices of reading,
we found it easy to speak to one another. She
wasn't from around here, only being in the city for
the last two months. Her parents hated her being here,
but were also supportive in her big decision to move
from the countryside in hopes of accomplishing her own dreams.
Aside from not having her near them, they just wanted
her to be happy and supported in her big decision
to move to the city, helping her pay some of
the way. She was a pretty girl with cherry red
hair and soft white skin. Her long leg were emphasized
by the short, flowery dress that complimented her hourglass figure.
She would definitely fit the pro quo for going down
in one of Jeffrey's Little Black Books. Only imagining the
look on his face upon meeting her, I could already
see his sly grin spread from ear to ear, knowing
exactly what he would do with her, and the very
thought of him tarnishing a sweet country girl such as
her just couldn't be done. It was the beginning of
a turning point in my life that started with realizing
I had a choice at hand and the effect I
could have on one person alone. I must be off,
but it was really nice meeting you, bidding her a
good night, and paying for my books. I turned around
with one last glance over my shoulder and said good
luck in the city. Leaving the bookshop was a small
step in a growing abundance of larger strides to come.
Turning the corner onto seventy second Street, I had an
undeniable feeling in the pit of my stomach again. But
this time it wasn't the familiar hurl of anxiety I
was used to after I had done something wrong that
I had regretted. It was a new feeling of pride
and inner strength. I quite liked it a lot. I
held my head high and smiled on the inside when
Jeffrey asked me how my day was and what I
got up to, not mentioning that I had let one
girl slip on by The icy winter winds faded away,
making way for the approaching sunny days that blossomed the
colorful shades of spring. This was my favorite time of year.
Making the most use of his island. We spent countless
days of the increasingly hot days. There a constant array
of visiting guests and plentiful young women to flock around
keeping them entertained. Was a typical lazy afternoon on Little
Saint Jeff's. We ate, drank and played under the blue
blanket of cloud disguise. Too many, this lifestyle could seem
idellic unless you were like me, the one on the
other side of the fence where the grass wasn't so green.
Fortunately for me and in some ways not, I was
mostly expected to attend only Jeffrey's insurmountable sexual desires, whereas
the other girls who came one day and went the
next were a promise to a multitude of open doors
just for their meager participation in sexual acts with random men,
only to be disappointed when they realized there was nothing
more than a single night out for these geriatric senior
citizens who most likely do or would die from Alzheimer's,
and they would sooner forget their entire experience, let alone
their first name. Surrounded by those in our world who
many looked up to, but not seeing them from where
I was standing, I didn't have the highest of standards
in humanity. Then I met al Gore, his lovely wife
during one of those many weekends away in the Caribbean.
I was blown away by the amount of attention Al
doated on his wife. It was sweet to watch. They
sat next to each other at the dinner table, gazing
into one another's eyes, having an intimate conversation between them.
Among the many guests that visited that night, in many
of them young beautiful women, not once did Al Eighes
stray elsewhere to them. They were the only ones there.
He was up for presidential election that year, and he
definitely had my vote. Anyone that could show that much
devotion and passion towards his loved ones could have the
same devotion towards running a country, or at least I
thought so. He only left his wife's side to have
a walk down the beach with the host of the weekend, Jeffrey.
The weather was still warm in the evening when I
decided to break away from the idle chat around the
table and take a stroll too. Not wanting to interrupt
the conversation between Jeffrey and Al, I walked in the
opposite direction, plucking the washed up seashells embedded in the
sand along the way. I enjoyed the serenity in the
solitude of the island so many nooks and crannies to
get lost in. I could imagine that I actually disappeared
from the entire world for a moment. By the time
that I came back to the main house, majority of
the small crowd had been long gone retired to their cabanas.
Even Jeffrey had gone off to bed. But trust party
animal Glane was still up entertaining the remaining guests left
at the table, telling her wild stories of people in
places she is. Embarked on trying not to make eye
contact as I walk past them on my way back
to the cabana, carrying my seashells inside my curled up blouse,
I wasn't up for any more pointless talking tonight. Emptying
out my seashells into a plastic bag, I went over
my new treasure one by one. I love collecting odd things,
shells being one of my favorites. Glene and I shared
that interest together. We would enjoy walkabouts around the island
searching for lost pieces of the remnants that pirates had
left behind centuries ago. It was mostly broken plates or
smashed glass from bottles of ale, and even occasionally getting
lucky and finding some old coins here and there. It
wasn't easy, though, both loving a challenge. It was perfect
for us, and during many scratches from the bushes we
would be searching through and then soar arms from digging
all day, but it was worth it. In end, after
nearly two years of collecting items and saving them, we
made Jeffrey a mosaic table out of the remaining pieces
left from the era of the Pirate's day. Upon completing it,
we were both astounded in our creation. It was such
an item of rarity and an interesting piece of work.
When we presented it to Jeffrey, he was even impressed,
not only in our amazing finds, but what we did
with them. The table became an important work of art
that Jeffrey showed off inside the main house lounge room,
sparking much intrigue and table conversation by many of the
visiting guests to his island. All right, we're going to
wrap up right here, and in the next episode we're
going to pick up where we left off. All of
the information that goes with this episode can be found
in the description box.