One night in October of 1983, I was in a bar called the Zanzibar Tavern with my buddy Carson. We seemed to be frequenting the strip joints a lot at that time. Well, I looked up the stairs, and saw what at the time, I thought was an angel. Her name was Sarina. We were living together within a week. It was kinda neat being with her. All my friends were talking about me. You see, she was a 'Stripper'. She also had a 7 year old daughter.
It was a lifestyle I don't think anyone should get accustomed to. The drugs were rampant, the people were all suspect. There was a girl Sarina worked with a lot, Baby Seka. Named after the Swedish porn star. Well, Sarina and I got close to Baby Seka and her hubby, Mike. I read years later, he was charged with murder. Seems he had beaten some guy to death over a bad deal.
There was a lot about Sarina that should have really tipped me off, or at least warned me. She was a recovering addict. Needles, speed, heroin. She had spent about 6 months in a Moroccan prison for being caught at the airport with 17 kilos of hashish strapped to her body. What kind of woman does that with a 5 year old little girl at home. For $5000 dollars even. The Moroccan prison system back then was so corrupt, she had her way to freedom bought. She also gave me one of the sorest doses I ever had. But, I was this all forgiving sort then, and I think I fancied myself as a knight in shining armour.
By June of 1984, her daughter Angie came to live with us, and by December of 1984, we were married. She had quit the stripping business, got a job at a pet store, and life seemed to be pretty good. We even had a cottage on Sturgeon Lake, in between Bobcaygeon and Lindsay. Then one day early in 1987, the mortgage on the cottage came due. Well, Sarina's answer was to earn the money the best way she knew how, strip for it. She even had her boobs done, which at the time cost us $1250. Funny, I always hated those new boobs. Felt like I was with Gumby.
Maybe I was a glutton for punishment, but I tried to make the best out of an impossible situation. But, there were too many outside influences at play here. I was being paid attention to by women who were here and now. She used to not come home for days at a time. We had started to live separate lives long before we split.
In September of 1987, Sarina and Angie left. Angie came back a couple weeks later because Sarina couldn't get her into any schools. Seems they don't have private schooling in the strip clubs in Ontario. I tried as hard as I could to take care of her, but it didn't work too well. I feel like I failed at that. Sarina also headed onto a downward spiral. She got back into the junk Did a short stint in jail for driving while intoxicated. You'd have thought I was relieved she was out of my life. It still really fucked me up for a long time after that.
Not only that, I was on the hook for $5,000 of that mortgage. Shortly after she left, she sold the place.
There was something I found out afterwards, that affected me for the longest time. One of my closest friends at the time was a guy named Lindsay. He was a recovering addict as well. One Saturday afternoon, in the summer of 1986, while I was working overtime, Lindsay got his hands on some speed. Well, he was so excited, but he didn't have anyone to do it with. Guess where he went? I can remember vividly coming home from work, going into our small washroom by the front door, and seeing a teaspoon behind the sink. It didn't make sense until I heard about Lindsay and her shooting up on that Saturday afternoon. I think I would have taken it better if Lindsay said he fucked her.
No comments:
Post a Comment