Death Of A Girl With A Dragon Tattoo

Went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) tonight. One of the women there broke the news that a veteran stripper committed suicide.

I'm still in shock. The last time I saw her was at the bar's Christmas party. She was happy, as usual, all smiles, drink in her hand, sexy as hell, moving her body, tattoos all over her body (the biggest of which was one of a dragon that covered her entire back -- fucking hot) telling a story that was deep and complex. I didn't know she was either sad or really, really sick.

I knew her. We weren't close, but I had a couple dances from her. But we knew who each other was, and it was always great to see her through the years. It's a damned cliché, but it's true: I never thought she'd be capable of doing this.

I don't know what to say. The other girls there, the ones who were much closer to her, are taking it very hard, and right now I'm hoping they're going to be OK in coping with this. Since I started going here, she is the second stripper who has died.

There are so many mixed feelings right now. I tried to ask the girl who told me questions about signs. Was she depressed? Did something happen? No. Nothing.

There is a hole in my life now. It may not be as significant as it would be if it were a family member or close friend, but now I'll have to adjust to life without seeing her at the strip bar. The other women there, it'll take a long time to get used to it. Maybe they never will. Maybe they shouldn't have to.

Frankly, I am kind of angry at her, too. She has two kids, and now they're going to have to grow up without their mother, and they have to do it knowing she took herself out. How can two young children grow up like that? And why should they? And I'm pissed off because I don't think I'll ever know the answer as to why she would do this to herself, and to us.

In the end, though, this is a reality check. I keep pissing and moaning about The Store closing, Grandmother's wobbly health, and my continued search for gainful and meaningful employment. I keep talking about these things as if they're life and death. But this is real death, actual death, and right now, those feelings of self-pity are shoved aside, where they belong.

My heart goes out to her family and her friends.