Every couple of weeks it was a new town, a new strip club. All blending together. A loud horn startled her out of her reverie. A trucker had stopped t... give her a ride. The cab smelled of stale tobacco and unwashed underwear. The driver was a cookie cutter ‘truck driver’, complete with worn cover-alls and faded red cap. ‘Where you headed,’ he asked in a gruff voice, small, piggish eyes looking her over. Something about him made her want to puke. Part of her wanted to get out, but it was so cold. My dad, as always, was quite interested in being a part of any setup that involved sex, as he had been in previous situations. After drinking a considerable amount of vodka, he would pretend to pass out on his bed. Catie would have no clue that the events that were to unfold were being staged, but it was the best way to make her think that she was getting what she wanted while getting my dad and me off at the same time. When we entered my house, I called out for my dad who of course wasnt going. More

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