"I wasn't born yesterday, nor the day before!"

Red and burning, a hand sheilded her eyes from the bright afternoon sunshine. Taking that last step off the Greyhound onto the ashphalt, a wave of relief washed over her like a cool rain rinsing off the filth that was her past. Watching merrily as the bus drove off for points unknown, inhaling deeply the stench of tires burning, rotting garbage, and something that could have been sour milk filled the sensitive membranes inside her nostrils. Crinkling her nose, surely one would get used to this, she thought to herself.

Easing herself down onto the bus stop bench, lost as to what the first move should be now that the money had run out. Scanning the street through squinted eyes, she took in the sights as far as her gaze would carry. Off in the distance to the left, a garbage truck had made a home at the end of the street, an odd shaped sign hovered on the otherside of the alley opposite the truck. Eye sight not what it had been prior to the debilitating beating, the wording was illegible. Turning her head sharply toward the right, the bluest skyline imaginable... was not there. Her dark brown eyes would come to rest on a gray, haze filled sky smoke billowing from the smoke stacks of a distant manufacturing plant. Surely that couldn't be healthy for the citizens that resided in the nearby towns, nor for the city she'd stepped off the bus into. Frowning a bit, her eyes would trail from the sky to the buildings lining the street across from the bus stop.

Making mental notes of the store, Urban Cache perhaps a place that she could shop for clothes befitting the new life she hoped to build. A restaraunt, Chopsticks, the name in itself caused a rumbling in the pit of her stomach. Chinese food was her favorite, ever since she could remember. Immedeiately she'd search for a pet store nearby, perhaps a myth that near every chinese restaraunt was a pet shop, still she'd look anyway. Satisfied with not locating one, she'd smile as her eyes moved past the wooden privacy fence. Coming to rest on the bar, the name standing out in bright, bold neon pink. Titty Twister.

Heart thumping rapidly, her last night on stage flooded into the forefront, blurring her vision momentarily. Crumbled at the base of the pole, puddle of puke beneath her face, a horror ensued that still lurked in the back of her mind. A sudden shiver trickled down her spine, eyes fixated on the building she'd force her legs to stand. Knees weak, one foot in front of the other methodically taking her against her will to the enterance. Unable to stop herself, Becky peered inside. Empty, the place was void of human life. Carefully as if her past waited just the other side of the doorway, she took a clumsy step, nearly tripping over her two left feet. The ambience somber, lighting left much to be desired as she was unable to see her hand in front of her face. Least til the sun wore from her tired eyes. A dusty liquior cabinet stretched along the wall behind the bar, filled with all the friends she had left behind. Jim, Johnny, Jack..the men fluidly rushed through her memories. A wrickety wooden staircase lead to what she imagained to be brothel happening on the upper floor though she'd not venture up to know for sure. To the right of the doorway, the stage.

Dim, flith covered spotlights aimed directly at the two bright, shiny, sleek, steel poles. Biting the inside of her cheek, eyes twinkling as they each whispered her name. Calling out to her, body twinging she inched closer and closer. Before she knew what was happening, she had answered.

Standing on the stage, hand firmly gripping the metal god, she'd see herself pooled at the bottom of the pole wallowing in her own filth. Thrusting herself into a wide-spin, twirling gaining enough momentum, long legs being lifted from the ground to wrap around the stiff, steel shaft. Sliding down the length, realizing the past was gone, her hands suddenly lost their grip, once again she crumbled to the base of the pole. Ashamed, embarrassed, for a moment, a split second, the past swept her away.

Crawling to the edge of the stage, she'd swing her long legs over the side. Using all the strength of her upper body, Becky would push off the stage landing flat footed on the floor. Glancing over her shoulder to the one of the many things that had possessed her at one time or another, she'd scurry to the door. Recoiling from the bar into the street, she'd not worship the thrill of the steel God any longer...

Making her way down the trash riddled street in search of "Becky", it was a journey just beginning.