Tyra of Troy

For what seemed like the hundredth time in my life, I was about to get my heart smashed into a million pieces.  On one of my many nightclub outings, one evening, after dancing all night long, I picked up the most delectable man I had met in a long time.  He was olive skinned, thick, black curly hair, the darkest brown eyes you can imagine, and a lovely boyish body.  OMG.  He was just beautiful.  The first time we met, I was very under the weather, and I dragged him back to my apartment and I shagged him until sunrise.  There was champagne and wax involved, and I remember in the morning being very sore and hungover!!  He kissed me goodbye and said he’d call me, however I didn’t see him again until some months later.

Some months later, while at the same nightclub we saw each other again, and again hooked up.  This time however, we talked and talked and got on famously.  After that, we started seeing each other regularly.  We had a long walk along the beach, whereby he said the same thing most of the men in my life so far had said.  That he didn’t want a commitment, and that even though he was happy to keep seeing me, in reality it wouldn’t lead to anything more serious.  However love blossomed.  Though Troy was not without his faults.  In fact he had plenty of them.  He couldn’t ever seem to hold a job.  He was always broke, and it annoyed me that I only ever seemed to see him when I had been paid, and yet when he was paid, he was never with me.  Funny that.  He was always bumming cash, smokes (I was a heavy smoker back then) and grog.  I rarely said no, as I was madly in love with him, and would have donated my blood if he’d asked me nicely enough.  One thing I did find difficult was his drug addiction.  I was a pretty outgoing girl back then, and had certainly done my fair share of smoking dope and drinking alcohol.  However, I never touched hard drugs, and I had been educated from a pretty early age that hard drugs were a terrible thing to get into.  I avoided them at all costs.  So, when Troy turned up to see me after work one night, I wasn’t familiar with his behaviour.  He was talking very, very fast, had dilated pupils and was acting quite strangely with funny mannerisms like itching his hair and picking at his face.  I knew something was not right, and yet couldn’t put my finger on it.  He admitted to me later than he was on speed.  He loved the stuff, and would inject it whenever he could get hold of it.  The thing with speed, is that it’s all good while a person is on it.  However when they are ‘coming down’ (when it’s wearing off) there are some major side effects for some people.  When Troy was coming down he turned into a living nightmare.  He became very aggressive, abusive and nasty.  He once even starting throwing things at me.  It was just awful. I recall another evening where he rode away on his pushbike in the middle of the night, giving me the finger!!   Speed began to rule his life.  I was often stood up by Troy.  The most memorable would be the night of my birthday, getting ready to go out with family, and he just never turned up.  I was completely humiliated, and I started to realize that my relationship with Troy was on thin ice.  When he confessed to me that he had been stealing to look after his speed habit, I had just about had enough.  I was getting sick of him living off me, using me and not ever giving anything in return.  It hurt, and finallly, I was starting to gain some self -esteem and value for my own integrity, and one night, when he turned up to loan some cash, I explained that I didn’t have any.  Enough was enough.  Love wasn’t worth this, nothing was.

Life had just been dripping away like a leaking tap and I was sick of it.  It was time for a change in my life.  No more men, no more nightclubbing, no more staying up crying over horriable men.  I needed a fresh start again, to move on, move up  and move out.

A Strange and Beautiful Thing

After all the hurt and heartache I had been through, my friendship with Dale was really a gift.  We spent many, many hours on the phone, philosophising about life and love.  We talked about everything, especially spirituality.  He was very spiritual, and after my spiritual upbringing, he was the second person in my life who had become a spiritual guide.  It was so good to be loved.  He would call me every day, and we would talk for hours.  There were no cordless phones back then, and I would sit in the laundry in the flat for hours on end talking to Dale.  We got on so well.  The only problem was, he was so far away.  I longed to touch him and be with him.  It was a good thing in a way, because our relationship was based on friendship first, rather than sex like most of my other relationships had started with.

Finally after weeks and weeks talking on the phone, he finally made the decision to come and see me.  The problem with Dale, is that he was married to his job, and there was nothing more important than work.  His work meant everything to him, even more than a potential love.  He couldn’t have any time off, so he literally flew in for the weekend.  Even though he had sent a photo, I was thrilled when I saw him.  He was a big man, a little overweight, but masculine and sexy.  He was very hairy and smelt so good.  He swept me off my feet.  I spoilt me rotten.  He took me out to dinner, wined and dined me, and looked after me.  One evening, at a fancy restauraunt, I was telling him that my favourite cigarettes were Dunhill blues, but I couldn’t afford them as they were so expensive.  He jumped up from the table, and within moments had about 6 packets there!!  He would do really generous things like that.

Making love to him was strange.  When he orgasmed he would have like an epileptic fit.  Throwing his body around, it was very scarey.  He loved having sex, and the second weekend he came to see me, we pretty much spent the entire time in bed.  I was quite cranky, as he said how sick he was, too sick to walk on the beach, or go anywhere, but not too sick to fuck all day. Typical bloke.  It was on this second visit, that he claimed that he could only ever be with me on weekends.  He also travelled constantly and was never home.  When planning our wonderful future together, all I could see was intense lonliness, living in some flash house in the city, with him constantly away.  I told him that as much as I cared for him and it broke my heart, we couldn’t ever be together permanently.  That was the end of that.  We somehow got over that, and he was one of the best friends I ever had for around 6 years after.  We then had a huge disagreement in regards to my little sister (yes, he also slept with her like most of my other men in my life), she turned him against me, and we have never spoken again.  Sad but true.

As our friendship blossomed, I once again found another man to torment me.  He was absolutely the best looking man I have ever been with.  Tall, dark, handsome, olive skin and a body to die for.  His name was Troy, and I’ll tell you about him next time.

My new career and Love interest

It wasn’t long before I was once again swept off my feet by a new love interest.  He was a couple of years older than me, and once again, we met in a nightclub.  He wasn’t particularly good looking, but had a great body, and the most amazing charming personality.  His sister worked at Myer, and it wasn’t long before she popped over to his place one day to let me know that there was a job available.  Bryce was really supportive, and within no time I had this job with them.  The only problem was, it was only a few hours a day, hardly enough to make ends meet.  I really enjoyed it though, and each day would get all dressed up to get on the bus and go to work.  I hated the bus with a  passion, as it took me over an hour to reach a destination that would only take 10 minutes in a car.  However, I stuck with it.  Bryce was beautiful.  We went out to dinner, to the movies, and had the most wonderful time together.  He was romantic, and loving, and when we made love fireworks exploded and so did my heart.  Once again, I was putty in a man’s hands.  That’s why when he called me and told me that he was ‘confused’ and he ‘didn’t know what he wanted’ I was devestated.  I just didn’t understand it!  Everything was going so well, why did he feel the need to withdraw from me, from us?  2 weeks past after he dumped me, and I didn’t hear a word.  I would sit there night after night, endlessly listening to sad music, and crying my eyes out about how heartbroken I was.  One night he phoned, and said that he wanted to come over and talk.  I was so stoked that he had given little ole’ me a second chance, I pounced on the opportunity.  He said that he was sorry, that he had been hurt, and was frightened of being hurt again.  That he wanted to give ‘us’ another try.  In hindsight, I should have told the prick to get knotted, but I was only 20, and was in ‘love’. 

What a fool I was.  My Mum called Bryce ‘ON/OFF’ from then on.  He was on, then he was off, we were on… then we were off.  He did this constantly.  Would dump me, tell me he didn’t love me anymore, then beg to come back, and fool I was I would take him back.

It was around this time that J(my ex) from Melbourne called to tell me that he hadn’t stopped thinking about me since I left, and that he wanted me to go and live with him in Melbourne.  He would get me a proper job, and we could live happily ever after.  Who know what might have happened if I took him up on it.  But I didn’t.  I was with Bryce, and was fighting my battles there.  It was too late for Josh and I.

Bryce was a diabetic.  This meant he had to be very careful what he drank, and how much.  Often, he would go out, and I would be stuck crying, giving him a spongebath and injecting his insulin when he drank too much.  One day, we were going to spend the morning together, and he called and said that he was going to play a game of cricket with his mates instead.  I offered to come, but he explained that since I hated sport, I wouldn’t enjoy it, and that he would come and say hello afterwards.  I shrugged, I had no reason to doubt him.  Not long after that, my roommate (I had since moved out of my flat, and was sharing with someone else) said that he had been walking on the beach, and had seen Bryce with his mates sunbaking and having a great time!!??  Say what?  Why in God’s name did he lie to me?  Why wasn’t he just honest?  Why didnt’ he explain that he would rather be with his mates than me??  I stormed down onto the beach to discover that what my flatmate said was true.  There he was.  He was shocked to see me.  He smiled like a cheshire cat.  I felt like a complete fool.  He came over soon after and apologized, said that the cricket had been cancelled so they had gone to the beach instead.  All LIES.  A few weeks later, we planned to go out nightclubbing together, which was one of our favourite past-times.  As the day wore on, Bryce became more and more agitated, before explaining that he had changed his mind, and didn’t want to go out after all.  He said that he was tired, and had decided to stay home and watch the footy with his mates and smoke a bit of dope.  I hated sport, and had no interest in sitting around with his smelly mates.  So, that night when he took off with a grin on his face, I didn’t give it a second thought.  Next day, we were meant to go to the movies together, but when he turned up to pick me up, his eyes were really bloodshot, and he looked terriable.  Bloodshot eyes was a surefire sign that he had been drinking alcohol the night before, as he was always really ill with his diabetes.  My first question was had he been drinking.   No, he said, he hadn’t.  I asked if he stayed up late.  He replied that the game didn’t finish until after midnight…. it was all a  bit sus to me.  Weeks later, I was at his place cooking a meal, when there was a knock at the door.  Bryce was up the road at his sisters house, so I didn’t hesistate to answer the door.  There stood this tall, skinny woman with a pretty face and curly long hair.  She asked if Bryce was home.  I asked who was asking.  She went bright red, and said that she obvioulsy had the wrong house and went to make a dash.  I invited her in.  I made her a coffee, and she explained to me that she had met Bryce out on Saturday night a few weeks back (the night he was SUPPOSEDLY with his mates) and they had made love, and had a wonderful evening, and he had given her his address and phone number to get in touch.  My heart was beating so hard in my chest I thought it would pop out.  Finally, Bryce returned to find us both.  His current girlfriend, and the woman he had slept with behind her back sitting at the table.  He went beet red.  I asked him if it was true, and he said it was.  She fled.  I fled.  I had no car, so I had to ask his sister who lived up the road to drive me home.  Only 3 hours later I was calling him back letting him know that I was willing to forgive him.  I actually called HIM.  I look back on it all now, and can’t believe I gave him one more chance, let alone the millions I did.  It’s amazing I didn’t end up with an STD.  I spoke to his Dad, and he explained that there had been many indiscretions while we were together, and that he often had another girl with him when he went out.   He said I was a fool if I believed that he would ever be faithful to me.  I realized that I was just his sex on tap ‘booty call’. When he couldn’t get sex anywhere else, he would come and get some off me.  The constant breaking up business was simply to ease his consience while he went off and did the wrong thing.  Then after he had finished shagging half the coast, he would come back to me and pretend he had come to his senses to get a bit more off me.  We acutally moved in together sometime later, but he did tell me to get out eventually.  We broke up and got back together another few times until finally Caroline, the ‘other woman’ fell pregnant to him, and he decided to do the right thing and stay with her.  I didn’t want to trap anyone into anything.  I look back now at my lack of self esteem, and self confidence, and can’t believe I didn’t kick him in the cods and tell him to get the hell out of my life the first time.  But I didn’t.  I layed down like a doormat and he treated me like one.  All these years later, I would love to track him down and tell him what I think of him.

A few months after the Bryce saga, the strangest thing happened.  I was on this ‘partyline’ called ‘telecafe’.  Back then, it was an online phone service where you met men on the phone and chatted with them for a potential date.  One night I really hit it off with this particular guy.  He was suave and well spoken, and we had so much to talk about.  I was shocked when he said he actually knew who I was.  We had met in Bendigo several years before.  I couldn’t believe it.  It was Bob’s best friend from Bendigo.

I was completely on the rebound from Bryce, and Dale lived in Sydney, so it’s not like we could ever be together.  However soon enough we had developed a relationship, and a whole new world was about to open up for me.

Back to Qld

My life in Victoria was over.  Finally, partied out, Anna and I made the decision to head back to the memories of QLD.  I was well and truely over Peter, as that had all seemed like a lifetime ago.  The Coast of QLD would no longer bring back the painful memories and heartache.  Even though I would never forget what I went through, the pain associated with it all was long gone.

Anna really hurt me before we left.  She had decided that she didn’t want to leave Bendigo with me, but wanted to leave in the next suburb with her boyfriend James.  They had been together for a few months, and she wanted one last weekend with him before we left.  Once again, I was left putting our suitcases on the bus, and saying goodbye to our older sister.  When Anna got on a few kms ahead, she was crying hysterically, saying that he was planning to come up to QLD to be with her.  He never came.

Anna had her heart set on moving to the Goldcoast.  Mum had a friend who lived down there, and we headed up there one weekend from Mum’s to check the place out.  It was dirty, and there were lots of people from many different walks of life.  Even the slummiest dirtiest units were way out of our price range, even if we both had great paying jobs.  I approached a few strip clubs, but was disapointed to learn even their top girls, only earnt $1000 a week if that.  I soon realized that when I started stripping in Melbourne, it was all new and fresh, where now it was getting old, and the once pretty girls, were now getting nosejobs and boobjobs and blonde hair extensions.  Unless you were 6 foot tall, had big tits, and a face of an angel chances were you wouldn’t be making much money.

Anna and I ended up having a huge fight, when I told her that our only chance was to move back onto the Sunshine Coast.  The Goldcoast just wasn’t going to happen.  Mum backed me up.  We found a really lovely 2 bedroom unit on the coast.  It was only 300m from the beach, and we were on a top floor overlooking the Street below.  We signed the paperwork and moved in our meagre furniture.  It was then a case of us both finding a job.  Anna got a job at a music store, and I soon was lined up to meet the Manager of the Sunny Coast’s biggest stripping agency.  I was put on her books in no time, and was lined up for my first weekends work.  I mostly did nothing during the week, went to the beach, watched TV, slept in late.  Then on weekends I would do 2 jobs on a Friday, and 3 or 4 on a  Saturday night.  I was probably making around $800 a week.  It wasn’t long before Anna decided she wanted to get into the stripping game too, and when I did a big review in a nearby city, she decided to audition as she wanted to be a part of it.  She was a huge hit, and the pub who had hired us absolutely loved her.  They offered her a job as a topless barwoman in one of their massive clubs up north, and with no thought for loyalities to me (who got her the job in the first place), and having to foot the bill for our unit on my own, she packed her stuff without a backward glance and headed off up the coast. I was left completely angry and bereft, putting ads in the paper for flatmates.  It was around this time that I got a few massive stripping jobs with large all girl reviews.  One was right up to the tip of QLD, the other right over to the NT.  Both were very lucrative, and one in particular I made a lifelong friend.

When I returned from the second trip, I once again was in the rut of lazy weeks and busy weekends.  But, the stripping scene was starting to get old.  My Boss was eccentric and demanding, work was starting to die off and I was beginning to gain weight.  I ate whatever I liked and never excercised, it was only a matter of time before my taut body began to turn to cottage cheese.  Though I was still slim, and very attractive, I was just getting too fat to be a dancer anymore.  I got the ‘talk’ from my boss who told me to ‘lose weight or find another job’.  I decided on the latter.  I’d been a dancer for 3 years, enough was enough.

One night out clubbing with a few girlfriends I met my next heartbreaker boyfriend.  His name was Bryce.

4 of my Favourites

Looking back, this was probably one of the wildest times of my life, but also the lonliest.  I yearned for a husband and children, just like I had when I was with Peter all that time ago. I wanted a man to really love me, and to treat me like a Princess.  I was starting to realize, that even at 20, life was not like the movies, and those one in a million blokes, who wooed you and bought you flowers were very hard to come by.

My lonliness and almost desperation to find a future life partner made me quite vulnerable to men.  Though I was starting to get a little life experience, and wasn’t the naive country girl who had arrived in Melbourne, I still had an element of fantasy and longed for my perfect ‘Mr Right’ to come along and sweep me off my feet.

In Bendigo, I was with many men over the short time there, but there were some memorable ones who deserve a mention.

The first man I will talk about is Bob.

On one of the many evenings Anna and I were out nightclubbing, I was having a wonderful time, dancing, and laughing when a man on the other side of the dancefloor caught my eye.  He was only a small man, and was dressed in a business suit and looked very suave and sophisticated.  We made eye contact, before I went to the bar for another drink.  Not long after I felt a gentle arm around my waist to find it was the handsome stranger from the dancefloor.  He was smiling, and introduced himself as Bob from Melbourne city.  He was a businessman, and often came out to Bendigo for weekends of fun and a bit of light entertainment. We sat and talked for a few hours, before I happily took him back to my place, where we made love for hours.

Next morning, we went out for breakfast together, and he treated me like a lady.  He was gentle and kind, and lovely.  He started coming out regularly, and with his lovely car, we would go to the movies, and to dinner and out for lunch.  Each of our outings would end up with us making love and being intimate.  One particular lazy afternoon while we were both drinking red wine and having a cigarette in bed, Bob decided to confess that he was in fact married.  Funnily enough, I had never noticed, which was pretty lame on my part.  He wouldn’t give me his home phone number, only his mobile phone and had weekends where he was unavailable.  He didn’t have children, and it appeared he did love his wife, just needed more affection and intimacy.  Against my better moral judgement I continued seeing Bob after I found out he was married.  Not long after we were together, we went out one night with his best mate Dick, who was a lovely fellow, also a workaholic who came to Bendigo on weekend.  Unlike Bob though, he had a girlfriend who he was loyal to.  That night we had a wonderful time, and little did I know at that point that Dick and I would cross paths again at another time and place.

I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t slowly falling in love with Bob.  He was charming, kind and considerate, and a wonderful lover.  We had so much to talk about, and I guess I was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he WAS married, and would never leave his wife.  I planned on many occasions to tell him it was over, but every time he called and whispered sweet nothings into my ear, I couldn’t bring myself to break it off.  But fate was to play a hand in this one, and several months after we had been seeing each other things turned rotten.  We had planned to go on a picnic, and I was really pissed off to realize that Bob had invited ANNA to our private romantic outing.  I was really annoyed at him for doing this, but even more so at her for agreeing to it.  She should have said no.  But, Anna being Anna she didn’t.  I was loading stuff into the car, when I realized that the two of them, Anna and Bob were spending quite a bit of time together inside packing.  Nothing was said though, and we went out to the dam and had a lovely day.

When we got home, over a few bottles of passion pop Anna confessed that that morning Bob had admitted to her that he had a massive crush on her, and asked politely if he could see her tits!!!  Anna says she refused (though I often wondered about this), but that he had flirted with her behind my back all day.  Once again, I was very upset, and I always felt that just when a guy started to like me, they would meet Anna and fall for her.  I was dreadfully upset, and went straight to a phone box (our home phone didn’t have STD access) to have it out with Bob.  He denied it all of course.  I was screaming at him, how could he do this to me, but he said that it was all lies.  In my heart I knew it wasn’t.  He wasn’t a man of the highest moral calibre, let’s face it, and it appeared not many men could resist cracking onto my beautiful sister.  I knew that she was telling the truth.  I told him that I never wanted to see him again, and that was the end of that.

A short time after that I was out clubbing one night when I met one of the most beautiful men I had ever met.  He was tall, olive skinned and had the face of an angel.  We danced all night, and at the end of the evening when I asked to take him home, he explained that he was really flattered, but that he was gay!! We became really good friends, Rick and I really hit it off in a big way.  He would come over to my place, and vice versa, and I met his flatmate Aiden.  Aiden was an ordinary sort of fellow, very quiet, and worked as a local butcher.  He was shy, and it took me sometime to get to know him better.  Acutally, when we first met I think he had a girlfriend.

Soon Rick and Aiden and I became an inseperable threesome, and we would go out on the town together and crash at home back at my place, nothing sexual ever happening.  However one weekend Rick called me, saying that he was really worried about Aiden.  Aiden had split up with his girlfriend, and wasn’t eating or sleeping.  I went over there to comfort him, and soon Rick headed off to his job as a waiter at a local restauraunt and it was just Aiden and me.  After a while, a few shots of Wild Turkey and a cigerette Aiden began to pour his heart out.  He had split up with his girlfriend, because he had fallen in love with me.  I was shocked.  I thought his relationship was rock solid, and they always looked so happy.  I was now the reason for their relationships downfall, and I was dreadfully worried that she would be out to get me!!  I left that afternoon very confused, and it was some weeks later that Aiden and I shared our first kiss, and realized that this was meant to be.  Things were pretty good at this point.  The three of us still went out,  and I was stoked to realize that Aiden felt nothing for my sister.  Life was cruising along really nicely when all of a sudden Aiden started to act strangely.  He confessed that he was diagnosed with an STD… genital herpes, and he was saying that I had given it to him.  I couldn’t believe it.  I knew I didn’ t have herpes, as I had no sores or symptoms.  We didn’t speak for some weeks, and I went and got tested at the local clinic just to proove my point.  I came through clean, and Aiden called my number a million times afterwards saying how sorry he was, and that he had found out his ex had played up on him, contracted it, and past it on to him.  So, the new girlfriend was innocent, and god only knows what would have happened between us if all this hadn’t have happened.  As it was, I never forgave him, and our relationship came to an abrupt halt right there.

And then there were 3.

On one of the many notorious nights out, I discovered a man by the name of Michael.  Michael was a proffessional rockclimber, and had a body of steel.  He had a wonderful chiselled jaw and long hair that fell over his face.  He had beautiful skin and a cute smile.  He also had a long term girlfriend.  She was pretty, but quite young, being only 18, to my 20.  It didn’t take long for me to put the word out that I was interested in Michael, and he reacted accordingly taking more notice of me on nights out when hanging out with our group.  One night, his girlfriend was away for the weekend with her parents and he was alone.  He asked if we could talk, and dragged me out of the nightclub to kiss me passionately.  I was thrilled, but felt guilty that he would now dump his girlfriend.  Their relationship ended, and Michael and I started to spend alot of time together.  He was a bit of a clutz, and was a little bit too much of a hurry to be a good lover.  He was also very frugal, and this was our undoing in the end.  One night, we had bought a pizza, and Michael had paid for half.  We all had a smoke of dope prior and were stoned as, so were all really hungry.  I sat there gobsmacked, as Michael ate as much of the pizza as his mouth would hold, frightened that he wouldn’t get his share of what he had paid for.  To be honest, it was a real turnoff, and soon after I told him it was over.  He was pretty upset, but got over it.

Last but not least is Derrik.  Once again, Derrik was one of the men in our group, who was very young, only 18. He was pretty good looking, but very naive and immature.  We hung out alot and got on like a house on fire.  However there wasn’t much chemistry there, and the sexual thing hadn’t come up anyway, as he was quite happy with his girlfriend.  One morning however, in the wee hours, his girlfriend Samantha banged on my door furiously!  When I opened the door she was crying hysterically, saying that her and Derrik had just had a huge fight, as he confessed that he had fallen in love with me!!  I hugged her tight, and reassured her that there was nothing going on.  She went home feeling better, though heartbroken. 

They split up, and it was sometime before anything happened between Derrik and I.  One weekend we had all gone camping, and Derrik had broken down in tears drunk, saying that he knew that he didn’t have a chance with a ‘Woman like you’.  I decided I wanted to make his dream come true, and a tipped his cute face up to mine and kissed him.  ‘Sure you do’, I replied.

We were only together a few months before I tired of his immaturity and possessiveness and told him that it was over. The night it happened he was enraged, and smashed in my little flat letterbox.  Heartbreak is a bitch.  Was I turning into the heartbreaker I had always hated in men to get a bit of my own back???

I was losing interest in the dramas of Bendigo fast, and as my work ran out, and Anna started to have man issues, we decided that it was time to go home, back to QLD to start again.

New Town, New Issues…

The time to leave Melbourne city had come. At 20 years old, I had become an old face at Santa Fe Gold, and was making only a quarter of the money I used to.  My relationship with my housemate had gone sour, he had become abusive and violent when I took his girlfriend out for a night on the town.  We got up to mischief, and stupidly, she had returned to his place and revealed everything.  He was not happy.  I was promptly told to get out. My sisters offer to move with her couldn’t have come at a better time.

Moving wasn’t too hard at this time of my life. I owned very little.  Everything I owned, mainly, clothes, toiletries and a few knick knacks, fit tidily into my couple of ragged suitcases.  Living at our older sisters place, we enjoyed delicious meals, and a family environment,  however she had strict rules, and we were given many chores, and she was quite bossy and gave us lectures on where we were going with our lives.  We only lasted a few months of babysitting her kids before we decided to move out.  Anna soon had work as a shop assistant in a jewelery store.  I was quite happy bludging on unemployment benefits until a job that suited me came along that wouldn’t interfere with my social life.

Anna and I moved into a small, dumpy tacky 2  bedroom flat in town.  It did the job, with 2 large bedrooms, a kitchen, laundry and even a back yard.  The rent was cheap, and it would do us for the short term.  The most difficult part of our lives was that we didn’t have a car. We would get up daily and I would walk Anna to work, which was probably about 5kms. I would then walk home, and do a little housework and laundry before crawling back into bed with a good book, or gossiping on the phone to Melbourne friends.

Grocery shopping was tricky, as we would have to do the shopping, (lots of junk food and curry!!) and have to push the trolley the 5kms home.  We would wear sunglasses hoping that 2 of Bendigos ‘cool chicks’ wouldn’t be recognised.  The other thing that was difficult at this point, was that Anna was only 17, and would put the big guilt trip on me every time I wanted to go out nightclubbing.  She would fly into a rage, saying that she paid the bills, and it was so unfair she was to stay home alone while I went out and had a good time.  There was one particular nightclub however that always let us in.  When we first starting going there, it was dead, but it soon became more popular.  We started frequenting it, and our sexy dancing on the podiums started to attract customers.  More customers meant more money for the owners, and more money for the owners meant more free drinks for us.  Soon enough we were the main attraction, and we started to make friends and become quite popular.  Often, after a night out, we would share a cab fare home, and would often bring a house full of party-goers.  At first light there would be drunken, sick and hungover young people everywhere.  Towards the end, we got hold of a Nintendo game console, and we would sit and smoke pot and play computer games until it was time to go out again.  It was a mad existence.

Once again, Anna was the popular one with the boys, and often we were approached by men chatting up my buxom, long haired sister.  Once again, I was thrust off centre, and would hang out with whoever she picked up.  I was quite promiscuous at this point, and would choose a man I fancied having sex with and happily take him back to our flat for a night of raunchy sex.  I rarely saw them again.

One night while I was out partying, I had a tap on the shoulder by a stranger.  He told me that he had someone on his mobile phone who wished to talk to me.  Pissed and stoned, I happily took the phone to chat to whoever was on the line.  A well spoken, professional man, told me that the ran a local escort agency, and that hearing I was a stripper from the city, he was keen to hire my services for his business.  I was keen, as I needed the cash in hand money, as I knew Anna was getting tired of paying our way all the time.  I organized a time to see him the following afternoon, and a car came to pick me up.  I was chauffeured out to a large farm, and got there in the late afternoon.  I was ushered into a large, dimly lit lounge room, where a group of about 10 women  sat drinking cups of tea and smoking cigarettes chatting quietly.  Sitting down next to a 30 plus woman wearing a velvet lace up dress and pretty woman boots, I picked up a magazine and nonchalantly flicked through.  “So, you’re the stripper eh?” she drawled.  I smiled, replying that indeed I was.  Soon enough, a middle aged, slim gentleman with a moustache called me into his office.  Introducing himself as ‘Mick’ he explained his situation.  He ran a very successful escort agency, but often had large groups of men to ‘service’ such as groups of contractors etc, who would enjoy a little dancing before hand.  I made it very clear that I was not interested in escort work, and that after I took my clothes off, that was it.  He was fine with this, and said that he had ample escorts, and didn’t require any more.  We agreed on some prices.  At Santa Fe Gold, I had only ever done table top dancing, so this Bachelor party type work was new to me.  So, for a strip down to a G-string bikini, top and bottoms, was $180.  To strip down to a G-string only, was $220.  To strip down to nothing, was $280, and the fully monty, strip down to nothing with full open leg work (as far as I ever went in my stripping career, I felt ‘toy’ work was cheap and nasty) was $350.  A majority of my jobs were down to nothing.  Often I would do between 3 -8 shows a weekend, which made me good money.  I could now pay my way and live comfortably.  I had a car come and pick me up, and 2 security who guarded me at all times.  Often, there would be a group of girls with me, and after my show, these girls would ‘service’ the men.  The funniest thing about prostitutes, they look just like any other woman!!  There were fat ones, thin ones, women with big tits, small tits.  Some were beautiful, some… not so beautiful.  They were never nasty to me, most were normal people, who had kids and families, and would have a normal life just like the rest of the world.

Jack did the ‘I miss you Babe’ thing when we were in Bendigo.  He turned up one night, after driving all that way, wearing my favourite outfit on him and smelling of my favourite cologne.  When my sister Anna ‘did her thing’ and streaked her way across the loungeroom in her g-string, I almost cried with his reaction.  Instead of gawking, like some horny dog, Jack curled his nose up and said “Gee Ty, what’s your sister’s story??”.  Hardly the reaction Anna was looking for.  Unfortunately, this was the last time Jack and I ever spent time together.  There were to be many more phonecalls, but our bodies would never again touch.

Life pretty much continued like this for many months.  Drinking, smoking dope, spending time with friends.  We worked occassionally and partied constantly.  There were a few boyfriends along the way, and a few dramas.

The biggest kick in the guts with Anna was at this point.  It involved a married man called Bevan.

Soulmate

After the heartache I had been through in the past, my love-life became fueled by sexual encounters rather than love.  I was the classic heart-breaker.  I would date men a few times, but as soon as they tried to get close, I would run a mile.  I hurt alot of people, driven by fear, I was just so scared of being hurt.  Like many people in the world today I had decided to not have anything to do with love, and therefore escape being having my heart broken again.

One night at work, I looked up from my table to see the most beautiful pair of eyes I had ever seen.  My dream man.  He was tall, well built, olive skin, dark longish hair.  He was just beautiful.  I was in awe.  After my table shift finished, he paid for a private dance.  We talked.  He worked for a communications company, and played in a band for fun.  He lived about an hour out of the city, with his flatmate who was also in the band.  I am a groupie from way back, and when he gave me his business card, I promptly wrote my phone number down and told him to give me a call.  When he walked out of the club that night, I felt like I had just fallen in love at first sight.

It took him a week to ring, and we he did, I couldn’t even remember who he was!!!  Life was hectic, I was dating a few men, and it took me a while to remember him!  He was the same age as me, and when he asked me out for dinner, I decided to go.  We had the most beautiful meal, and just got on so well.  We talked about everything.  Music, politics, love, relationships, family.  He was funny too, and made me laugh all night.  When he asked me back to his place for more drinks, I happily complied.  After a few Wild Turkey’s (his favourite drink) we both threw our inhibitions to the wind and made love.  Quite simply, I felt like I was home.  His smell.  His taste.  His body fitted mine like a nut fits a bolt.  My heart beat so much faster when I was in his arms.  Afterwards we were both openly crying.  Finally, I found a man who felt the same way as I did.

We saw each other whenever we could.  He would come and pick me up in his old car, and we would go out.  He had a huge group of friends, and we were often with them.  I watched him play bass guitar in his band.  We had nights on the couch watching movies.  It was bliss.  As time went on, I fell deeper and deeper in love with him.  After about 3 months together he dropped a bombshell.  We were moving too fast.  He was feeling pressured and wasn’t ready for this big a commitment.  I was startled, thinking things were going so well, but mostly I was hurt.  The exact feeling I was trying to avoid.

2 weeks later, after I had spent 2 weeks crying and devastated, he called me.  He missed me.  Oh Jack, how could you do this to me?  I went back to him, and he did this over and over again.  He would break it off, then we would get back together.  We did this over and over, until finally I had had enough.

It was time to move on.  My sister Anna turned up to Melbourne, confused and upset, also running away from a break-up. When she asked if I wanted to move to Bendigo with her for a fresh start I didn’t hesistate. Our older sister lived there, and we could move in with her temporarily.  I packed, told my flatmate I was leaving, and resigned from my job at Santa Fe Gold.  I had spent a full- on dramatic year in Melbourne city.  It was time for a change.

Infatuated

Quite often really good looking men would come into the club and I would take them home and shag them senseless.  Some were one night stands, some I saw quite regularly.  None of them ever really meant anything to me.  However, occasionally, out of the blue, I would meet someone who I had fireworks with, and became attached to.  Daniel was one of those people.

Daniel was Turkish, and totally blew me away emotionally and physically.  We met at the club one evening, he came in with a group of friend and his brothers, and they drank and had a good time.  He spent the entire night at my table, and I would dance for him during my table shifts.  He was absolutely beautiful to look at.  Wonderful olive-caramel skin, chiselled jaw, and the most wonderous chocolate brown eyes with long black lashes.  His body was hard, and he was impeccably dressed in suit and tie.  His hair was jet black and combed back in a style that flattered his face perfectly.  He was a work of art.  When at the end of the night he handed me his business card and asked me if I would like to have dinner sometime, I didn’t hesitate.

Daniel had a way with words.  He was charming, smart, and knew just the right things to say to a young impressionable girl like myself at the time.  He told me that I was the most beautiful woman he had ever met, and that he would like to get me into modelling, as we could make me a fortune together.  I would blush, and be so flattered.  He took me out to the most luxurious of restaurants, and would always pick me up with the most utterly breathtaking gifts, or bunches of flowers.  I recall one bunch of red roses were so large I could hardly fit them on my lap.

3 months into our dating, we had still not slept together, as like my previous experiences, I had a feeling that when this happened, the challenge would be over and Daniel would lose interest.  Though one night it all got too much.  He smelt so good, I was loosened up with fine champagne and when I felt his hard body pressing against me after dinner on the balcony, I just knew that tonight was the night.  He whispered that he loved me, and proposed marriage that night.  It was all I needed to hear.  We drove to his Uncles lavish mansion, and upon arriving, we danced romantically to the song ‘Lady in Red’ (I was wearing a red dress) before he made love to me like I had never been made love to before.  He was sweet, passionate, and the most amazing lover.  We made love all night long, and it wasn’t until he dropped me home the next day with bedroom eyes that I had butterflies in the pit of my stomach.  Would I ever see Daniel again?  He had proposed to me right?  I was the love of his life?  He was my knight in shining armour who was going to take me to extrordinary modelling heights?

The following day I called his mobile phone number (the only one he had given me) and found it was switched off.  He was busy, that was ok right?  I called it again.  Still no answer.  Finally I called his brother’s phone and caught him.  Ahmet his brother had been with him the night we met, and he said that he wanted to talk to me in person.  We met one afternoon in a coffee shop, and he told me everything.  Daniel was married with 2 children, and his 3rd baby had just been born.  He had a weakness for beautiful women, and would often seduce one that he had his eye on, before dumping her like a peice of rubbish.  Unfortunately this is what he had done to me.  He wasn’t going to make me the next top model, or marry me, or do any of the other romantic things he had promised.  They were all lies.  Every.  Single.  One.  Of.  Them.  I shook hands with his apologizing, embarrassed brother and left.  I felt absolutely gutted.  What a bastard.  He had lied to me and downright used me.  I cried for days.  I cried for my vulnerability, I cried that I was so stupid.  I felt used.  I felt worthless.  Was this all that I was ever going to find in my life?  Hurt and heartache?

When my emotions changed from hurt to anger, I decided it was time for revenge.  I knew Daniels last name, I knew the address he took me to for the final seduction was his Uncle’s place.  I couldn’t believe I was so stupid that I didn’t put two and two together why he wasn’t taking me home to his own luxury house.  I knew they were a turkish family, and I knew that his Uncle had an expired Visa and was living on borrowed time in Australia.   Time for Tyra the dumb stripper to make a few phonecalls to Govt. officals.

About a month after my vindictive phonecalls, I recieved a death threat in the mail box.  I knew that Daniel had a highly influential family, and realized that if there was a chance I would be killed, this was going to be it.  I was glad that I had done what I had done.  I felt so used, and completely set up by Daniel.  I wanted him to suffer, just like I had.

12 years later, I am still alive and kicking, as the death threat was just that.  A threat.  Whether Dagwood protected me, or the whole thing was called off, I don’t know to this day.  It felt good to get some revenge and get some of my own back.  Just like the bullied school girl, Tyra had decided enough was enough.  For now.

The Stalker

By this stage of the game, I was a pretty popular dancer, and had certainly made my mark on the many regulars who visited the club.  The men who visited ranged in all different ages, shapes and sizes, from the very fat and unattractive businessmen, to young, virile sexy young men who came with Bachelor parties and bucks nights.  Even though we had a no fraternizing with the clients rule, I often gave in, and would call a sexy fellow for a night of fun.  Most were one night stands, a few turned into friendships and a couple were even short term relationships.

One of our rights however, as a dancer, was that if a specific man made us uneasy, or uncomfortable, we had the right to refuse to dance for him.  This didn’t happen very often, it was only a vary rare occasion when I man was too creepy, or sleazy or just plain rude.  Most men who visited were polite and respectful.

On one of our busiest nights, a Saturday, I was having a great evening when at about 12am, I had a new customer.  He was extremely gorgeous, with blond shoulder length hair, a killer body, and well dressed in jeans and dress shirt.  When I danced for him he smelt divine, and admittedly I enjoyed my job that night.  He introduced himself as Frederick, and explained he was French, and had been living in Australia for many years.  From what I could see he was smart, well spoken and good looking.  He also appeared to have money, as he spent several hundred dollars on me that night.  Between table shifts, he would pay me handsomely for personal dances.  He stayed for several hours, before explaining that he had meetings the following morning and had to go.  He asked me when I  worked, and I explained that I was here most evenings.  He then slipped me a piece of paper with his phone number written on it. I winked flirtatiously and headed out the back room to get organized for my final shift.

It wasn’t uncommon for men to tell you this sort of thing.  They disclosed info about their lives, their wives, their work.  You often knew what they did for a job, how many kids they had, and what their day was like.  Many were single and just plain lonely.  The night I met Frederick, it was no different to any other night.  You would often have a man take a liking to you, and would come back to see you week after week.  But eventually, the novelty would wear off, and you would never see them again.

Needless to say,  I wasn’t shocked or surprised that I saw Frederick the following Saturday night, and the one after that.  His behaviour gradually began to change however.  He went from being friendly and easy going, to asking alot of questions.  Where did I live?  Could he have my phone number?  Did I have a boyfriend?  He also started making ridiculous statements of fantasy and being almost delirious with lust.  He told me he loved me.  That I was the most beautiful woman he had ever met.  That he knew that we were meant to be together forever.  That he had a big beautiful house for us to live in, and he wanted me to meet his parents in France.  Once again, it wasn’t unusual for a customer to become somewhat infatuated, but most of the time, they were pretty short lived.  This thing with Frederick had gone on for weeks.  Finally, things came to a head, and one night I got really tough.  He was coming across as just plain pathetic.  “Listen Frederick, I am a damn stripper!!!  I am not this wondrous fantasy fairy you are making me out to be!  I am a normal every day girl, doing a job that pays well, that’s ALL.  You are a rich, good-looking guy, there would be loads of women out there who would die to be with you!!”  I then went on to tell him he was creeping me out, and that if he didn’t stop coming in, I would be speaking to my supervisor.

The following DAY, he was there, as forlorn and as desperate as ever.  He brought a massive bunch of red roses, and a little red velvet box. “You are my heart my darling, I want to be with you until death.  Will you marry me??!”.  By this time, I was shaking, with both rage, and fear.  Are you joking?  I pulled on my clothes, and told him that his time was up, I was going to get my supervisor.  I called over security to remove him, and they dragged him, tears streaming down his face down the steep dark stairs.  A part of me felt sorry for him.

When I got down to the dressing room I cried and cried.  How could a person be so delusional?  Why did he make me out to be something I wasn’t?  He was a nice man, why couldn’t he take no for an answer?  After a private meeting with my Boss, I packed my stuff and headed home early.  She demanded that I have a week off, so that if he came back he would get the message for good.  I was happy for the break.

When I got home I called Dagwood, and he came over.  I cried in his big fury arms, and told him everything.  He seemed genuinely worried and asked if I had given him any of my private info, such as where I lived and such.  I told him no.  He didn’t even know my real name.  He then asked how much I knew about him.  When he had given me his phone number, a mobile phone, he had just scribbled down ‘Frederick’ and the number. I pulled the scrunched up piece of paper out of my handbag.   Dagwood dialled it on his mobile phone.   “Ty, it’s disconnected.”  I froze.  My skin crawled.  Shit.  I I had NOTHING on this guy!

I went back to work the following week, and the staff explained that Frederick had only come back once.  The girls promptly told him that I had gone for a holiday, and they weren’t sure when I was returning.  Nobody had seen him since.  I threw myself back into work with gusto, trying to get the whole scary scenario out of my mind.

On my nights off, I was obviously a night owl, and when I wasn’t out with Dagwood, I was either on the phone, or watching pay TV.  One of my favourite things to do, was to walk down to the all night servo at the end of the street, and buy myself a couple of strawberry freddos and a drink called ‘Oasis’ in a lemon and kiwi fruit flavour.  Funnily enough, I had absolutely no fear of being alone, and would walk down there regularly on my nights off, and would spend half an hour talking to the attendant.  This night was no different.

I set off at a brisk walk.  It wasn’t far, probably only 100m.  After buying my goodies and having a chat as usual, we noticed a black sedan pull into the servo, but we couldn’t see into it, as it had tinted windows.  My heart was pounding, but eventually he/she sped off with no consequence.  After another 15 mins or so, I said I would get going.

After only about 3 minutes of walking, the car zoomed around the corner. It was obviously waiting for me.  I walked faster.  It slowed down to a crawl, and the passenger side door opened.  A man with a face mask looked me in the eye.  “Make this easy on yourself Tyra, get in the fucking car”.  I dropped my plastic bag and I ran.  I ran as if my life depended on it.  I ran like an olympic sprinter.  I ran like it was all I could do to try and stay alive.  He kept driving beside me.  He pulled over at one point, and I thought he was going to jump out, but the car just went around the block.  I kept running.  Finally when I arrived home, my roommate bolted into the loungeroom. I was crying hysterically, explaining what happened.  I got myself together and we walked to the front windows.  Fuck.  Believe it or not, he was still there!!  His car was parked on the opposite side of the road, and he was sitting very still like a statue as if he was invisible.  My flatmate bolted out the back to let his dogs out.  We both bolted out the front, to try and get a glimpse of his number plates, but as the dogs approached he sped off in a  cloud of burnt rubber. Once again Dagwood was called, and I spent the night curled up in his arms.  Dagwood did some investigating, and found out that my phone was acutally tapped.  For sometime after this, I would catch a ride with Dagwood to work on his bike, as I was petrified I was being followed.  Frederick had a lifetime ban at the club, and all staff members were informed that he was not to be let in, to either club, under any circumstances.

About 4 weeks after the stalking car incident, I recieved an evelope in the mailbox.  My full name was written on the front, though it was obviously hand delivered, as it had no stamp.  It was a plain, white evelope, and on a plain piece of white paper inside were written 2 words, in the same writing that had scrawled down a phone number all those weeks prior.

“I’m sorry”.

Unlikely Friendships

When I was living in Melbourne city, I had 2 very close friends, who I not only told all my secrets to, but who were there for me in all kinds of situations, both the fun, and the not so fun.  These 2 people didn’t know much of each other, and yet they were both so important to me at the time, and taught me so much about different cultures and most importantly, about myself.

The first friend I will tell you about was Ali.  He was a taxi driver, and just so happened one evening to pick me up for work.  We got chatting, and over the 20 minute drive through peak hour traffic we laughed and talked amicably about life in general.  He passed no judgement on me that I was a stripper at a table top dancing club, and I appreciated him just the way he was.  He would have been around 40, I only 20, and he was a Turkish man who had moved over to Australia less than 10 years ago to escape an unfortunate life with his wife and 2 children.

After a week or so of Ali picking me up in the taxi, we agreed that he would ALWAYS come, at the same time each day, each week, until my job at Santa Fe Gold finished.  After a few weeks of dropping me off, and picking me up after my shift (I would call him on his mobile to come and get me), we would often go to a bar and play pool until dawn.  We did this alot, and soon enough I was taken to a Turkish coffee bar where we sat amongst cigar smoke and strange men and drank the strongest coffee I have ever had.  We also played cards, drank beer together and talked and talked.

There were never any sexual feelings between us.  I did not find him attractive at all, and he never showed any interest in me either.  I think he was very happily married, and regardless of my age, and what I looked like, he was not interested in anything more than a platonic friendship.  This was refreshing, considering everyone in my life at this point appeared to either want to have sex with me, take advantage of me, or just plain use me.  Ali and I never saw each other outside of these hours.  We spent afternoons before my shift together, and early mornings together, but our lives never intervened outside those hours.  We were friends throughout my entire time at the club, and unfortunately, after I was sacked, I never heard from him again.

My other very close friend at the time was a biker by the name of Dagwood.  Dagwood was in his mid 40s, and the traditional biker dude.  Big beer gut belly, weathered skin and Ned Kelly style beard, he looked as if he had walked straight out of a “Born to be Wild” film clip.  We actually met at Silas and Jasmin’s club, and got on famously.  He had a wicked sense of humour, and I would laugh until I cried, often to the point of running to the toilet, or having to use my asthma inhaler.  He was a funny man.  He was also quite a powerful person.  I know that he was involved with the mafia, and was also quite ‘up there’ in the motorcycle gang he was involved with.  When I asked him what he did for a living, he would always be vague, saying ‘this and that’, and I was often intrigued, and would lay awake in bed at night thinking about it.  Was he a drug dealer?  A hit man?  A drug trafficker?  Did he beat people up?  I know he had alot of connections, as when I thought my phone was tapped at one point, he quite easily and quickly found out what the go was.

Our time together varied.  We saw each other several times a week, and our activities were as different as night and day.  Often we went to pubs and had a meal and I drank until I couldn’t stand up.  He never drank alcohol Dagwood.  Said it didn’t like the way it made him feel.  This was fine by me, as I always got a ride home on the lounge chair like apparatus on the back of his massive Harley Davidson motorcycle.  With my headphones on, we would talk as we rode around the city like royalty.  We also went to many motorbike shows, fairs, discos and events.  We attended rock concerts together and comedy clubs.  I felt safe when I was with Dagwood.  I knew that no-one would ever hurt me when he was with me.  He was like a father figure to me.  The father whom I had never had. I found out sometime after I left Melbourne, that he had a raging crush on me, but knew that it would never happen between us.  Luckily for me, but I guess not so lucky for him, he never had the guts to reveal his true feelings.  It was best that way, as all I every felt for him was a mother daughter type love.

Some months into our friendship, I had an obsessed ‘fan’ from work begin to stalk me.  I was absolutely terrified.  This is when Dagwood really came through for me.  I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t intervened.