WITCHES AND STRIPPERS

When I walked up to him I knew right away there was no money. I had made enough money that night, it was towards the end of my shift, and I know when enough is enough. But this guy had caught my attention, rather on an energetic level than a visual or social level. He was dark. I could feel it, very dark. This conversation was purely out of curiosity. What had made this young man, he was in his late twenties, slip so deep into darkness. When I introduced myself I could see he was surprised I was even talking to him. None of the other girls had tried. First, he thought I was out to get dances. He was straight forward, “I won’t do any dances nor give you any money.” It was clear I had been right on with how I had read him. I replied, “I understand. Not trying to make money but choosing to talk to you.” He cut straight to the chase. A burning desire in him to scare me and load some of his bitterness onto me, “What is more powerful: Satan or God?” There was no hesitation in my voice, “God, of course.” Him, “My father was a priest. He beat me day and night. Because of him I am fucked up like this. I have tried many times to sell my soul to the devil. My last girl friend … God I was going to marry her … she belonged to my church and right before I proposed to her I found out she had hidden that she had two children with another man and was working as a prostitute. I have to tell you honestly, I hate women. They try to get pregnant and then they make you pay.” I told him, “It’s not women. What about men who practice ‘stealthing?’ It’s just as fucked up. My dear, the problem is humanity. Women as well as men …” Him, “I have sold my soul to the devil many times.” I couldn’t take his comment serious. I knew he had no idea who the real devil is, but I had to ask, “How?” Him full of shame, “By engaging into sex with men.” I told him, “That’s not the devil. That’s just what a man made church told you is suppose to be the devil.” Something in him woke. His posture changed, and he started sitting up taller to ask me fearful yet excited, “Who are you? Are you a witch?” This is the second time in a few weeks that I have been called a witch on a shift at the club. I looked at him and said, “Yes, I am a witch.” Him hoping to get answers, “Who is stronger Satan or God?” Me, “I already told you, God! Light always wins over darkness.” Him, “So what kind of witch are you? A white or a black witch? What makes a witch?” Me as if I was born with this knowledge, “Witches know how to use crystals, herbs, and the right timing. But without the power of the mind all this knowledge is almost useless. The secret of a witch is in the power of the mind combined with all of her knowledge. That is a powerful witch. And just like a knife that can cut bread to feed you or kill someone and take life away a witch is always both: black and white. She chooses which craft she wishes to practice and is fully aware that she will have to carry the consequences of her actions whether they are black or white. But now my dear, I will go and change. Sooth your soul and know, you haven’t even come close to Satan. You’re just hurt, and it’s OK to hurt. Don’t call upon Satan. Just lift your head to look straight ahead and let time sooth your wounds. It’s not always all bad.”

Jonesing for more? http://www.amazon.com/dp/1257802860/ref=dra_a_rv_ss_ho_it_P1400_1000?tag=dradis-20

Or watch http://vimeo.com/59749732

Or click on https://www.amazon.com/author/aajones

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