Getting in Trouble with a Pimp

To this day, I really do not know why I did this. I could have been killed. I guess it was just out of stuid curiousity. I do not know. At the time, I think I felt that I was trying to educate myself by understanding different people and different personalities - what made them tick. Maybe this was the reason I did what I am about to tell you about. I do not know. I could back-up my stupidity for this particular incident by saying it was for the purpose of understanding personalities based on the fact that I earned my bachelor of science in psychology years later. And I must admit that the first hand experience I received provided more information than anything I could have ever obtained from a textbook.

There was this young, good looking black man that hung around the Two O'Clock Club where I danced as a stripper in Boston, Massachusetts. He never bought any drinks and would say, "No" when hustled to buy some. He seemed to be friends with one of the waitresses. I found out later from other dancers that he was a pimp.

I had never talked to a pimp before as far as I knew. I told myself that I should talk to him and try to understand this type of personality. The approach I decided to use was not too appropriate as far as my personal safety was concerned.

I could not go to him and say, "Heh! I hear you're a pimp. Could I interview you and study your personality?" So I decided on the dangerous approach. I acted like I wanted to work for him.

As far as I can remember, I just went up and told him I wanted to make more money, and I wasn't sure how to do it. I needed someone to show me how. I played the dumb stripper act to the hilt. It worked too good.

Immediately he lit into me. "Listen, Bitch, give me some money. If you haven't got paid, give me what you got on you now. You hear me, Bitch? You pay me to be your man. I know where you work. I know where you live. You have me some money by 2:00 a.m. or leave the state of Massachusetts. You hear me, Bitch? The money at 2:00 or else!"

Needless to say, I was scared. I went and told my girlfriend and roommate, Lori, about what happened. I told her that she didn't have to walk home with me tonight if she didn't want to because he might be there to hurt me. She said she would never leave me alone to face someone like that.

He never showed up after work. I sure was glad. As a matter-of-fact, I do not ever remember seeing him around after that.

I think my friend must have said something to him. She had a way of being forceful with words towards these type of men.

I watched my words AND my curiousity very carefully from that moment on.