Tonight I met DeMarcus. He showed up bloody on my back doorstep. It was like a really bad case of stripper knee. He had gotten his ass beat and hopped a fence to escape. He wanted to use my phone to call his mom.
We called his mom. I can’t imagine being in 9th grade and not being home with my family doing homework and sitting around the dinner table before a calm bath and bedtime. I guess that’s what some families have to do though, take what work they can get. I drove DeMarcus to his mother’s place of employment, a BBQ restaurant. On the way there, we saw the group of 8 looking around for him. My last words to him were, “stay out of trouble.”
A lot of people would have probably been too scared to open the door. I’m not gonna lie, I was. I’ve been scammed by all types. There are people in the world that use emotion to manipulate situations. Feeling out the situation appropriately despite your nerves or feelings is key though, I think. I’m glad I was able to help him.
I don’t get it. I never saw a fist fight until I became a stripper. There really are cultural differences between different parts of society. I wish there was a way to teach healthier communication styles to those that grow up in more violent areas. Then again, humans naturally adapt to their surroundings in order to survive.
This is where it becomes very difficult for any human being to jump from a lower social class to a higher one. Communication styles of a culture. Learning to observe and mimic is probably the most valuable skill I have picked up from the strip club. It’s allowed me to acclimate to any social situation life throws at me. I suppose this is why none of my bruises bother me very much.
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