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My name was Helen Urbaczewski. Ur. Buh. Chess. Key. No one ever said it right.
Now I’m Skag.
Worked as a bouncer. Place called Fantasy Heartbreakers. Strip club. Glitter on fake tits. Fat married men smoking cigars. Dollar bills. A tired-looking woman in her forties, used to dance there, too old now, cleaning the stripper pole between dances with baby wipes while I smoked cigarettes and watched.
Guys would hit on me. Figured I worked there, probably turning tricks. Broke a few noses, nothing major. Just once in a while, kept the peace. Kept them polite. The working girls appreciated it.
Decent gig, would have kept doing it. But life is all about change.
The day I saw my intestines torn out of my abdomen and coiled on the concrete in front of me, steaming and grey, I realized that things probably weren’t going to be the same anymore.
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