This week’s D File comes at a perfect time. I was astounded that Kitty Kelley actually made the news again. For those of you who don’t remember who KK is, well, she comes from way back when the only gal doing what I do was Dear Abbey. She—Kitty, not Abbey—is famous for “outing” famous American icons in unauthorized biographies. The first one to put her name on the map exposed secrets of America’s royals, The Kennedys…more specifically Jackie O’ herself.
Well, her latest unauthorized biography tackles America’s TV high priestess, Oprah. The book promises to tell on Oprah. It will answer questions that Americans always thought about but never had enough pull to find out the answers to. It also is purported to tell some juicy tidbits that Oprah was going to confess in an autobiography some years ago, but people close to “O” said that she didn’t have to say such things about herself. Which, I guess, opens the door for someone else to do it. Kitty Kelley stepped up to the plate and is dishing dirt that says things such as, “Oprah was once a prostitute.”
Holy Moly! Was the first thought that I had. And then my empathy kicked in. Heck, we all have skeletons in our closets. My blog: http://www.fixmylove.com/blog/episodeview/id_141/, talks openly and honestly about dealing with one’s relationship with one’s skeletons. It teaches how to improve the way we relate to our skeletons, allowing us to feel better overall. If you haven’t read it yet, please, do!
What is Letty going on about? I know you are asking yourself that right now. But there is a point, I promise. This D File is going to be the beginning of the opening of the proverbial can of worms, or Pandora’s Box. Something is about to happen that is going to change the course of many of the lives of the people you have met here in the pages of The D Files.
With that, I am going to leave you to read this excerpt. Please, be empathetic. We all have skeletons. Stick with this story…it is going to get really hot really fast!
Lotsa Luv,
LL
The D Files
Confessions of a Male (Ex) Stripper
By Letty Livingston
It was a cold Thursday night. The holiday spirit was still in the air and the strings of twinkling blue and white lights still hung in the trees in Rittenhouse Park, directly across the street from Rouge. The space near the bar was elbow to elbow, but Lisa, her daughter Angelica, Nikki, and her man Freddie were lucky enough to have a cushy corner booth, allowing them ample room to people watch.
Angelica was the first one to notice him. Her taste in men is for those who are sexy-ugly, but this guy had all of the former and none of the latter. After a nudge, Lisa took notice of him too. But as soon as she felt she was about to get him to look her way, a dark figure broke her line of sight. Bea was standing there, waiting for them to scoot over so she could sit down.
The shoulders of her black wool coat were dusted with fresh fallen snow, and when Bea shook it, the wet flakes flew in all directions. There were people at four or five tables who were glaring at her. She made a “pft” sound and squeezed past Freddie and Nikki. Angelica moved slightly but enjoyed the feeling of Bea’s thick thighs up against hers.
Now that she was seated, a drink was a must. Since the place was packed to the gills, getting a waiter could have been a problem—a problem for anyone but Bea.
“Hey! Hey Sandra!” Sandra the manager/hostess/social butterfly weaved passed a dozen or so customers to answer Bea’s holler. She smiled at everyone and attempted some small talk, asking how everyone’s holidays were. Bea was having none of it.
“Get me a dirty martini, extra dry and extra olives on the side. Belvedere. Be sure of it sweetie!” It sounded like Bea was barking orders at some child.
Sandra made a mental note of the drink order. Lisa gave her an apologetic look as she left, working her way toward the cramped bar.
“Why the ‘tude, dude?” Freddie immediately jumped on Bea when Sandra was out of earshot.
“Dude, don’t call me dude!” Bea growled back, almost before Freddie was done with his admonishment. “You have no idea how hard of a day I had.” Freddie was about to retort when Nikki pinched his thigh.
“Damn that hurt!” Freddie yowled. He winced and decided to shut up and sip his cocktail.
Though the crowd that stood by the bar and filled every square inch of the standing-room-only floor space in the restaurant seemed like it was still, it was moving like an amorphous amoeba. People were side-stepping for waiters, moving slightly so patrons could either exit or enter, and wriggled out of the way of people who were going or coming from restrooms.
“There! There he is again.” Angelica spied the super hot guy again. Just the right amount of people had moved the slightest bit for the moisture-inducing man to come back into view.
“Ooooh yes!” Lisa groaned. This was not her type of guy. She liked effeminate men. This man was tall, dark, and strapping. He was the kind of man that was an every-woman’s man.
Freddie leaned in front of Bea to see what all the fuss was about. “Oh yeah,” he said. “I’d do him. If I were gay, that is.” The girls laughed. But the laughter was with bated breath. The women were beginning to get steamed up. This guy was that attractive.
Bea was still irritated from her prior joust with Freddie, so she pushed Freddie back and craned her neck to see for herself. Bea looked astounded and then her jaw dropped. She turned white as a ghost, despite her pristine war paint. “Oh my God!”
“I told you guys he’s smokin’!” Angelica was proud of her discovery, but then got Bea’s thick butt smushed in her face. Without another word Bea shot up, pushed passed Angelica and then Lisa. She reached across the table, grabbed her long wool coat, and tore a path, directly into traffic, in the opposite direction of the guy all the women were lathered up about.
Everyone at the table watched as Bea elbowed and shoved her way around the back of the bar. She pushed between two sets of tables and knocked over a few drinks along the way. She never looked back. Her head was down as she made a beeline for the exit.
“What the heck was that all about?” Nikki asked. Freddie laughed and excused himself. He headed toward the men’s rooms. The waiter arrived with Bea’s dirty martini and a glass of olives. Lisa didn’t have the heart to send it back and she patted the space next to her Cosmo, letting the waiter know that he could put the glasses down there.
The women were murmuring, wondering what had gotten into Bea. No one had even seen her react like that. Angelica proposed the possibility of some type of stomach ailment, when suddenly Freddie appeared with the tall, dark, and handsome man.
“Ladies, please allow me to introduce you to Tyler.” Freddie had a Cheshire Cat smile pasted across his face. The women were dumbstruck. Angelica didn’t say anything, but she instinctually slid over, pulling her mother, making room for the man to sit with them.
Tyler sat. Lisa offered him the martini. “It’s fresh,” was all she could muster. Freddie sat down and proposed a toast. They all raised their glasses and toasted to having a happy and lucrative New Year.
A couple of drinks later, the story was unfolding. Tyler was telling them how he was back in the northeast. He moved back from the west coast after spending some twenty years there. He confessed that he knew his ex-wife was in Philly and that he saw her bolt from their table earlier that night.
Everyone was dumbstruck. No one had any idea that Bea was ever married before. She never, ever told any of us. We all thought we were really close friends, and having an ex-husband, especially one who looked like he was the prototype for leading men in the movies, would be news that one would tell their closest friends.
This is where I come in. I got a call later that night and was filled in about all of the goings-on. How there was an über-hottie in town, how Bea had an ex-husband and how the ex-husband of Bea’s was the new über-hottie. My girlfriends wanted me to get to the bottom of it. I don’t know if it was because I seem closest to Bea, because I don’t allow her to take a superior tone when talking to me, or because everyone else, including Freddie, are a bit scared of Bea.
Angelica grabbed the phone from her mother’s hand. She said that she had the presence of mind to get Tyler’s phone number. She told him that he needed to get in the loop as to all of the social events in and around Philly and that our circle of friends could put him in the center of it. Besides relaying his mobile number to me, she asked if it were all right for her to try to bed down Tyler, even though she knew he was Bea’s ex.
I told her to hold off; that sleeping with your friend’s ex, be it ex-boyfriend or ex-husband, was not a good idea, even if the guy was super hot and was a secret-ex.
I waited until the next afternoon. I called Tyler and introduced myself as a friend of the table of people he had drinks with the night prior at Rouge. I also told him that Bea had never told us she was married before and that, as a relationship counselor and an advice columnist, I’d be interested in speaking with him as to why we never heard about him.
“It may be because when Bea and I broke up, I was a Chippendale’s dancer.”
“Excuse me?” I choked out.
“Yes. I was, at one time. Chippendale’s, you know, a stripper. But there is much, much more to the story than that. Are you free for lunch? I could tell you my side of things.” Tyler sounded sincere.
“Of course. Let’s meet at Rum Bar at 2.” I set the time and place and could hardly wait to find out all about Bea’s ex-stripper, ex-husband, and to get to the bottom of why none of us knew anything about him, up until now. And perhaps figure out why, all of a sudden, he is in the same city as his wife of twenty years gone by.
For the next issue of The D Files I will have the interview with Tyler for you. It is going to raise some questions while answering some too. And, it will, of course raise some eyebrows in the process.
In the meantime, I will be answering my readers’ dating and relationship questions, so send them, along with your comments to me at help@letlettyhelp.com. All submitted material is considered for publication and all names are kept in the strictest of confidence. Come back next month for another installment of The D Files and you can read more of my work at: http://letlettyhelp.blogspot.com/
©MMX~Letty Livingston ~ The D Files are intended as inspiring and engaging sources for advice and not alternatives for therapeutic intervention, should it be needed. All names have been changed to protect the identity of the people mentioned herein.
