When Life Gives You Lemons...I Throw Them Out

For the first time in my life I actually have gossip… really, I don’t think gossip truly describes it. What I know is far beyond gossip…closer to dirt…dirt so filthy, grimy, and soiled that it’s blackmail-able. Sometimes I wish I was that person…someone who could be conniving and shrewd…to be someone that could blackmail and not only NOT feel bad about it, but be satisfied by my actions and the positive outcome, well for me at least. Alas, I do not hold any traces of that personality…but that’s actually a good thing right, agreeably for the person with the scandal. I mean…I have names…numbers…I have EVIDENCE! And it’s such a random situation. I wish I could say that I was the one who blindly stumbled upon this……what do you call it? Does ‘situation’ satisfy this odd and rare circumstance?

All I want to do is call someone…someone that knows this person…again, I’ve never had anything this juicy before beyond so and so’s pregnancy…or so and so’s divorce. Blah…boring…everyone expects those situations from those “so and so” type people. Besides, I’m in my late 20’s…expectations have been raised and the bar set by daily life experiences. But this…no one expects this, let alone imagines it in their wildest dreams. Especially from someone who comes from a clean background and well off family.

Although I plan to name no one…only provide details, I feel as if I’m crossing some line that should never be. But they’re only details of a story! No harm…no foul…right? Well this account just needs to be told…on that note….

My girlfriend is a Leasing Agent for an Apartment Complex. Her reality there is enthralling…with plenty of stories, anywhere from cheating sex-capades, surgeries of teeth removal from abdominal tissue, green card marriages, stolen dogs, and plenty, plenty more. And now she has one more tale to toss onto the ol’ list.

So a very hurried, non-resident, young man walk’s into my friend’s office and hands her a Blackberry. He then says “This is Holly’s. I assume she lives here since I picked her up out front. Can you give it back to her?” My friend responds to him with, “But I don’t have a Holly that lives in my building.” He then places the Blackberry in her hand and says, “Just give it back. I don’t want to deal with her” and then flies out of the room. Well my friend is baffled. Not only does she not know who this girl is, but the phone is dead, so there is no way to track down the owner. As luck would have it, one of her residents has the same phone, and lent her the charger for it. My friend then powers this little bad boy up, allowing energy to surge through its wires.

She starts rummaging through the text messages first, looking for a name she would recognize…but she notices something a little…“off” about these text messages, and becomes a little leery, yet very intrigued. She moves onto the emails to shed a little light on the mystery. Low and behold, this “Holly” girl is not a Holly at all, but rather a Call Girl…that’s right, I said it…she’s a hooker! Emails from multiple men…all talking about her sexy body and how they can’t wait to touch it. Not to mention providing a list of previous references from other Call Girls for "Holly" to check up on. And how she requires them to bring a bottle of Sky vodka to every meeting…personally I feel, in a position like hers, she could ask for something just a little higher end. I guess beggars can’t be choosers sometimes.

But these multiple men…we’re talking names…BIG names. BIG business men names…BIG married business men names….and all absolutely blackmail-able! At this point we’re all so dumbfounded, but so charged with adrenaline, that we immediately search the internet for this Call Girl Holly…sure enough, further confirmation …a web page was found with her wages…$300 an hour…$200 for every additional hour. Wow!

We decide to take our adrenaline and Blackberry to happy hour…wanting to giggle a little longer over a few drinks. But my friend still has no idea who this girl is. Clearly her real name is not Holly. So we decide to go through “Holly’s” emails…fingers crossed to run across a recognizable name. And sure shit…my friend does, putting it all together…and making absolute sense. The girl my friend thought of does in fact live in her building, travels a lot…always in Vegas, Madison, or Denver for weeks “visiting her boyfriend.” And these emails to “Holly”…are from men in Vegas, Madison and Denver. Hell, she even recognized the phone when she realized it. My friend tossed the name out there saying “Clearly, it must be her.” At which point, my eyes literally leave my head. I mean, I have big eyes, but when she shared that name with me…I probably looked alien like. I even choked on my own spite…not knowing if I should inhale or cough. I just have never been so dazed, speechless, and thrilled at the same time in my entire life.

I KNOW that girl…I mean, I went to Middle and High School with her…and if that isn’t random enough, this girl bullied me. Her goal was to make me cry…and to be honest she did a terrible job at it. But the intent was undoubtedly there. And now she’s a Call Girl…and I know about it…and have the corroboration to throw it in her face AND her graduating class. Will I?…unfortunately not. I just don’t have it in me to be that cruel. However…I am a brat enough to fuck with her a little. A new client that doesn’t show up for their “date”….or even an email interest from a fellow classmate….

Damn…….so much information, and my brain is just too tiny to actually do anything with it.