Porn works for me. We mesh well if you will. The worst days in porn have all been better than the good days at past jobs. Let’s take a look:
My first official job was at McDonald’s. I was 15. I wanted a job so bad it hurt. My best friend and I applied at the same time and we were hired immediately. It was over the summer and they put us on a 40 hour workweek at $6.25 and hour. I was early every day and would stay late if they let me. I was the drive through girl. Eight hour days in a hat and headphones and shoes that were made not to slip on grease. I changed the fries and mopped and wiped down trays in between. I got drinks and tendered money. I hated when it was slow because then I would start paying attention to the clock. At least when there was a rush I had something to do. I ended up losing my best friend over that job. We were way too competitive. I smelled like grease permanently and was bossed around by high school drop outs who would have me spell check their reports. One crack head threw her food at me through the window because it wasn’t hot enough. It was the drive through for god sakes. She had ordered two minutes ago.
I literally walked across the drive through lane one day and started working at Taco Bell when I was 16 because the best friend was no longer. She had been promoted and I hadn’t because I couldn’t work the hours she could. I was on the tennis team and it took up my time. She hadn’t made the team. We were at each other’s throats. Taco Bell hired me on at $6.75 an hour and let me work the food line, which I preferred because I’m not good at kissing ass and if one more 1973 diesel truck ran it’s engine into the speaker while I was on the receiving end of the headphones I was gonna snap. This worked out for awhile but I was getting tired of making everything by mixing powder and water and the soggy food bits floating around me when I had to wash dishes made me nauseous. My hands would get wrinkled under the gloves and the smell of old watered down sour cream doesn’t come out with just one shower.
Finally I moved closer to the city and had a reason to get a new job. I was almost 17. Petsmart hired me at seven dollars an hour and for a minute I was thrilled because they promised to put me in the specialty department after my training period. The specialty department got to handle and care for the animals. I started at a junior college full time and worked 40 hour weeks. I couldn’t wait for the transfer.
It never came though and I was stuck as a cashier. They promised me the job as soon as there was an opening. There were no openings. I was pissed. I didn’t want to handle any more money and stand in the same spot all day. Plus they got mad at me when I enforced the store policy about rodents. If I thought customers were buying them for snake food I wouldn’t ring it up. I didn’t realize at the time that their commitment was only for show. Finally they transferred me to the grooming department to shut me up. I washed dogs all day. Another smell that never left. It wasn’t bad though and it did shut me up. Meanwhile another summer hit and I took on a couple more jobs. They didn’t always work out.
The first side job taught me many things about things I’m against. I still wanted to work with animals so I applied at another pet store that only sold puppies. The lady would take a van across the Midwest and buy whole litters. She’d bring back 100 dogs at a time in rabbit cages and squeeze health certificates out of a shady vet. I was the girl who cleaned the cages, cared for the dogs, sold the dogs, kept the records and got attached to every single puppy. I was a walking dog encyclopedia. I knew their expected adult heights and weights and temperaments and potential health problems. I loved my job. Then I started noticing that when dogs got sick around there they died. She wouldn’t get vet care. One teacup Chihuahua got a common intestinal parasite that could have been cleared up with a couple of pills. Instead she stuck it in the back and let it shit blood until it collapsed. I tried to take it home but she said if I handled it I would pass it on to the other puppies. I tried to take it to the vet and she said it was not my property. I went home pissed off and found it the next morning dead in it’s own vomit. I quit.
Next I was hired at a racetrack doing odd jobs for a standardbred trainer in the sulky races at the fairgrounds. A few days in another trainer had a gelding he was going to send off to auction. An untrained underperforming standardbred on the auction block has about as much chance as one of my Petsmart mice in a snake cage at making it out alive. At the slaughter house they’re worth a dollar a pound and no one was going to lay down $1,000 for this horse. His name was Casper and he was a gray five year old gelding with a limp. I begged and pleaded and the guy broke down and gave him to me. I scrambled and pulled some favors to find a boarding ranch and a trailer to get him there last minute. I filled out a fake application at the ranch because I wasn’t 18. The horse came home two days later and I quit the third day because I was afraid the guy might change his mind.
For a few months I stuck with just the dog washing then traded it up for a serving job at Denny’s because I figured I could make more with tips. I didn’t do well there because of my aversion to ass kissing and spent every waking moment training my horse until the semester was over. He had never been ridden before I got him and in a few months he was a dream. Then school got out and I had time to kill so I picked up a second job. Again.
I ended up spending the summer as a trail guide at a ranch on the river. Anyone could come in and pay by the hour to follow me around on a dead broke horse. The ranch owner was old school. He believed in breaking horses instead of training them and he got his stock from auctions. When they got old, sick, or ornery they went back to the auction. When I was hired he had just brought in a new batch of horses and hidden down among a bunch of quarter horses was a little pony. They named him Patonio. He was the craziest of them all. He bucked and reared and didn’t like to slow down or stop. I rode him because he wasn’t safe for customers. I adored him.
At the end of the summer school started again and I gave my resignation because I couldn’t keep up on two jobs and fifteen units and my horse. I turned 18 in September and in October I got a call from one of the girls who still worked at the ranch. The owner had tried to break Patonio. A 6’2” man jumped on a pony and rode him so hard that he fractured a bone in his pastern. They were sending him to auction. They wanted a dollar a pound. I had six hundred dollars in my bank account. He weighed more than that and I had bills to pay.
And that’s how I got into stripping. I worked a Saturday day shift and picked him up on Sunday with cash to spare. I finally found something I liked that made good money. And no animals were harmed in the process. And I didn’t have to kiss ass. In fact, they kissed my ass. I had my two horses and cut my workweek down by ten hours a week. And yes, I stayed in school. It worked out perfectly.
I worked at that club for close to two years. When I was 20 an agent came in and told me I should be in Penthouse. I didn’t think I could cut it but I liked the idea and two weeks later he flew me down to LA. His name is John Stevens. He’s brought girls like Sunny Leone, Nikki Nine, Jana Jordan, Brea Lynn, Meggan Mallone, Faye Reagan, Carli Banks and Paris Dahl into the industry. I did a few solo layouts and my first published set came out in Penthouse. When I turned 21 I signed with Vivid and the rest is history. I love my job.
Courtesy of: Kayden Kross
