Prologue

Hi, my name is Charlie. I’m putting my thoughts down in an attempt to understand myself a little better. I figure doing my autobiography would be cathartic just like the teacher at school once said when she made the whole class do this exercise. Of course that was dozens of years ago now so I have a more fuller (yeah I know, its bad grammar but I say that all the time, along with more gooder or more better, so deal with it) understanding of where I am in life and what I’m really going to do with it. I’m going to skip the shit I put into a school-aged autobiography because it was childish then and would be irrelevant now.

Over the years, I’ve reinvented myself a bunch of times. When I was at grade school, I was Charlie, Charlie Crab. Small and skinny, with unruly red hair and perpetually dirty fingernails from getting into stuff I probably shouldn’t have. When I reached high school, I went through puberty. That time of my life sucked! I got tall almost over night. From four foot nothing to six foot tall in just a couple of years. My clothes never fit right and my face was one huge zit. Shorts that were the trademark of young Charlie, Charlie Crab became a thing of the past. I insisted on my mom buying me jeans. But they never fit right because I was always waking up taller and they looked like they’d shrunk in the wash after only a month of use.

I discovered that girls weren’t the same as boys and the more I realized the fact, the worse things got. So an adolescent Charlie took control of his situation. The first thing to go was the name. Charlie became Chuck and I never repeated my first name twice as I’d done with the name Charlie. I showered every day, kept my fingernails clean, got a part time job and began buying my own clothes. What I never realized at the time was that for every step forward I took in looking more presentable to the fairer sex, I took two steps backwards in my ability to relate to them as regular human beings. In other words, I became the shyest teenager ever, especially around girls – although that bled into my relationships with other young men too. I got big and strong; I could disassemble and reassemble an internal combustion engine and manhandle it out of and into an engine bay without help, yet I couldn’t even say hi to a girl.

I wasn’t a nerd ... I didn’t think myself smart enough to be called a nerd or a geek and I certainly wasn’t a jock. Just that in-between guy who never fit into any clique.

As time passed, I got through school, never understanding why I was peered up with the rest of the kids in my class. You see at my school, there was a special class and I was in it. I don’t mean special as in licking windows and riding the short bus, although we had a special class like that too, but this was a special class for the smart kids. My siblings had all been in the same special classes too, but I was the dummy of the family. I’d been told that enough to know it for fact. The moment I got out of school was the finest moment of my life, I thought at the time.

I was never bullied in high school because I was too big for that. I wasn’t in any of the school’s sports teams because I wasn’t coordinated enough and had too many extracurricular activities of my own going on anyway. So for me, there was nothing wrong with school; it was just a good feeling to be done with it even though I had no idea what I was going to do next.

What came next was sex. Still as geeky as ever, yet as I said, not an actual geek, I discovered prostitutes. They were the best thing to ever happen to me at the time. They were women, I could be myself with them and better yet, I could put together whole sentences when talking to them. I guess, thinking back on it now, I was more comfortable with prostitutes because they were like me in a way; they didn’t fit into a category of personalities either. They also made me feel superior. I paid my way of course. I did that by stealing from the retail companies I worked for. Not major-league stealing, just enough out of the cash register to pay for a prostitute’s company once a week. I never got caught if that tells you anything.

I could claim that life dealt me a bum hand however I really don’t believe that. At the time I was happy enough with how things were going although I knew at the back of my mind that I’d have to grow up sooner or later.

I met and dated a chick. Not a lady, not a woman, a chick. She was the most ill-mannered female I’d ever come across up to that point in my life and she really claimed me, instead of me pursuing her. Actually, she just invited herself to my apartment and stayed. As well as being bossy, she could literally drink me under the table. Her name was Cazz although I never ever knew what Cazz was short for or even what her last name was for that matter. One day she just didn’t come home and only then did I realize that she’d packed her meager possessions and left me.

I scored my first proper girlfriend when I was twenty. It wasn’t much of a score when I think back on it, however it definitely changed my life. You see, the girl I set my heart on, turned out to be a transsexual. She allowed me to actually pursue her – to wine and dine her – she eventually kissed me and generally allowed me to practice being an adult male ... without sex of course.

When that finally happened, I realized I didn’t even care that she was born male. I just wanted her to feel good being intimate with me. One thing she never allowed me to see, was her fully naked. Im not gay so seeing her willy wasn’t high on my priority list anyway. Im also not homophobic so it wouldn’t really have mattered. I only ever saw a girl sucking my dick or pretending she had a vagina as I screwed her ass in the dark.

As long as I agreed to pretend she was all woman, she was happy with me and in a way, idolized me. She really did, and I felt like the king of the world for a little while. The prostitutes had become a regretful thing of my past and when I ‘found God’ after five years with my tranny girlfriend, she too became a thing in my past. I still occasionally wonder how she’s doing.

Then along came Nicole.

I worked in an office with Nicole and in a move that was totally outside my normal personality, I asked her on a date. This was a regular girl. She wasn’t a crazy girl or a prostitute who made their living being kind to men, nor was she a transsexual who was scared to reveal herself to others, but a normal girl with a normal family. A woman who had drive, determination and a set of principles that at first, were alien to me.

I took her on a date and we kissed. I took her on a second date and we REALLY kissed. I took her on a third date and we had sex. We then proceeded to date for a year and I found out that even normal girls have all the same sorts of insecurities, biases and hangups that whores and trannies have. It was a real eye opener I can tell you!

One thing I never did with this second girlfriend was to worship the ground she walked on. I eventually became too busy worshipping the ground that unattainable women walk on and that was why, in the end, I terminated our relationship.

Imagine that. I’m a twenty eight year old geeky non-nerd and I’ve already terminated two relationships.

So who was I busy worshipping? I’d discovered strippers. Go figure. I spent my formative years hanging around whores, dated a trannie and ultimately fell for strippers. That’s multiple strippers. I had favorites in each of the strip joints I frequented. Each took my money and I gladly gave it to them. Every one of them led me along by the balls and not one of them ever had real feelings for me, but I could fantasize that they did and that was enough. If you want something bad enough you can make yourself believe it’s true.

Until I met Shadow. Shadow’s real name was Mary and Mary was a druggie. She supported her habit by stripping. I met her the first night she ever worked, before she learned from the other dancers that any guy visiting a strip club was generally a creep. She actually came onto me and I got hooked, real quick.

What was different about Mary was that she wanted a daddy figure and she selected me as that person even though I didn’t know it at the time. All I knew was that a celebrity (any woman that worked from a stage was a celebrity to me) wanted to get to know me and didn’t care too much that I was shy in the beginning.

Chapter 1 »