I wonder how my life got so crazy. I mean I know how it started, boozing and drugging and waking up on the end of a ferry line I don’t remember getting on in the first place. But I thought I’d found the perfect, idyllic sleepy little town to start over in. I made a start, too, found some old guy that can’t get it up, but likes to pretend he can that would bankroll a new business in return for being able to see my tits once in a while.
It turns out, however, that this seaside ‘paradise’ isn’t a safe harbor, but a cesspool of bottom feeders. I’ve been shot at, kidnapped and beaten up, and I found myself almost shooting a cop! My boyfriend whispers sweet nothings in my ear in private and in public he says things like “Get me a beer, bitch.” Well in private he still makes me get him a beer, but he is nicer about it. I think his ex has moved in with us, on my suggestion maybe even, and he owns a hooker he bought from her brother of all people who is pregnant with twins, from what sounds like a schizophrenic Russian. So, you wonder, am I asking for advice on how to fix any of that? No, what I am asking is, should I be worried that I am having so much damn fun?
Dear Adrenaline Junkie,
I confess I am jealous. I have been living here for almost a year now and I don't even have a lover, let alone a boyfriend, and I am pretty sure even if I had one, he wouldn't be as interesting as to own a hooker (his personal one? or does he put her to work? does she keep your house clean at least?) and co-live with me and his ex - an ex I like enough to be wanting to share my place and my man with! I might do without the beating and the cop shooting, tho, but do you happen to have a spare room for a boring woman that barely gets out of home? That would be me. Oh, until the twins start screaming at night, anyway, cos that's when I will take my leave.
((OOC: Do you have a problem or need advice and don't know where to turn? Simply contact Zehena by dropping her a notecard in-world.))