After that I worked at a pumpkin patch, again, not out of choice. That job was in college, I needed some quick cash and they needed some quick labor. Here I was pursuing my bachelors and working at a pumpkin patch where illiterate Mexican workers had seniority over me. I was their bitch. I would come home smelling like goats and farm. The only fun part was watching parents discipline their kids in public, and hold back their pimp hand. Besides goats, mexicans, pissed off parents and shit pay, that job was a hit it and quit it.
Then I became a scare actor at Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights. This was the most liberating job I could've asked for, I could finally just chase people, scare the shit outta them and be applauded for it. I was able to exercise my inner freak and it was great. I would walk up behind people and just start screaming any senseless shit I felt like at the moment, and they couldn't judge me! I was just doing my job. Sometimes I would just stare at people as they ate their breadsticks and tried their best to ignore me. Some people got pissed at me, usually over protective boyfriends because they wanted to get some pussy later on that night, but then I'd just fuck with them. How dumb did they look getting in a fight with a vampire? Fuckin fools, plus they paid to get in. That was a great gig, minus the long hours. You'd think it was all fun n scares, but it wasn't. The scariest part believe it or not was the drive back home. I did this job 4 nights a week, Thurs-Sunday. I would go to class from 8 am to 3pm, then I'd drive straight to Los Angles from Irvine, I'd start work at 5pm and end at 3am. I was fucking EXHAUSTED, I could barely keep my eyes open, I looked like a stoned asian. My friend Shawn and I worked the job together so you'd think I would have company to keep me awake, wrong. He was so tired, he would fall asleep, leaving my asian ass to drive along barely knowing where the fuck I was. One night I was so fucked up that on the way home, I took a wrong exit and ended up in anaheim, then I got back on track and drove back to anaheim again, I felt like I was on acid. FINALLY, after figuring out where the fuck I was, I made it back home, it was 5am, I had class at 8am. FUCK. I was a hamster on a wheel.
Next was bouncing, yes I know I'm small, I don't weigh 300 lbs and have a ponytail but hey, they offered me the job, so fuck it, I took it. This was a cool gig, all I did was get suited, look pretty and stare at bitche's booties. Now I'm not a clubber, ask anyone, I hate everything about them, the people, the smell of shitty perfume, the mirrors and lights everywhere, the music, the sound of people's bullshit conversations, the sound of pleather squeaking, fuckin everything. BUT, but for once, I got to do what I enjoy most, people watch/ass stare. I could finally just stand there and stare at people without having to explain myself, it was fucking great. Girls would come up to me and rub my velvet coat, and sometimes they'd start grinding up on me and I'd just stand there and stay in character. It felt nice being able to swat bitches away like flies and crush their self esteem a little, "yea bitch, don't think that you can just come and grind on me and I'll just follow the bread crumbs" I was able to do all the shit I'd been wanting to try all these years without looking like a fuckin weirdo. I only did this for 4 1/2 months, but I got some good stories out of it. My last gig as a bouncer was working the Halloween party at the Play Boy Mansion. This was more for the story than anything, it was exactly what you could imagine, a bunch of half naked/naked bitches running around tripping and falling onto big rich cocks. I didn't see Heff's old wrinkly ass, he was probably busy contemplating fucking his 25 year old wife but wondering if his 85 year old heart could keep up. I saw more fake tits, fake ass, fake lips, fake cheeks, fake teeth, fake personalities, fuckin fake everything! than I could've imagined. It was nice to get outta there, definitely not my scene.
My most current gig is a UPS driver helper. That basically means that I'm the drivers bitch, I sit in the passenger seat and drop off the boxes and get paid $8.50 while he gets $34 hrly. But its not that bad, you know why...because the area we cover happens to be movie star territory, its the Hollywood Hills. So I'm sitting here delivering packages, but not to your ordinary clientele, the other day I pulled up to a house that looked like a life size barbie house, a swing in the front, fuckin apple trees everywhere, ornaments hanging, and you know who was inside...Richard Simmons. And let me tell you, he was fuckin RICHARD, didn't hold back shit, he cut to the chase, asked me my background as he eye fucked me and undressed me with his eyes. He offered me water or soda, I said water, then he told me how much sugar cane is used in one can, 33 meters apparently. He was really nice, before I left he gave me one of his motivational wrist bands and eye fucked me again. After Richard, I met JC Chasez, one of the backstreet boys, and right after, the legendary John Carpenter, then Jimmy Kimmel. I was delivering packages to these motherfuckers that I'd seen on TV my entire life and it was surreal. In ways it was like one of these strange fucked up dreams you have where you say "yea, I had a dream where I was a UPS driver and I delivered a package to Richard Simmons, he eye fucked me, gave me some water and told me how much sugar was in a can of soda". I soon realized that this UPS gig was just about as cool as it could get, if I was gonna deliver packages, it better be to entertainment icons.