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NOTHING IN THIS VOMIT OF WORDS HAS BEEN PROOF READ, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!I'll start this off by giving a bit of back story about me.
I remember being in a city centre alternative pub (one I still drink at ironically) crying my eyes out because I didn't know what I was going to do.
I had a terrible job, no place to live, no place to return to, no friends and no future prospects.
It was then I met someone we'll call ' Miss Smith' for the purpose of this story.
Turns out by promotions they meant 'shot girl' and I spent a good while working for £3 an hour at the dirtiest club in my city.
My uniform was one or two notches above bra and pants with stockings and heels and I spent the first few hours of each shit cleaning stuff no one else wanted to clean (basements, smoking areas, toilets etc.).
The rest of my duties was trying to get clientele to buy shots, photographs and lighters until late into the night.Living in his halls of accommodation with him didn't last long we broke up maybe 2 months after I moved down.Private school educated, I come from a 'well to do' family.When I was 15, due to a serious and traumatic disagreement with my parents, I 'ran away' from home to a city further south with my boyfriend at the time (he was 18 year old fresher at University).Deciding that I needed to pay my own way I attempted to find work.Sadly the job market wasn't exactly nice to a 15 year old with no experience, references or qualifications but I did manage to get a job doing ' Promotions' for a nightlife agency.