Coke-Coke Chanel: at the Dive

I opened my eyes and smiled when I saw him, Redbeard. Feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, I reached over and put my arm around his waist.

“*****, no. We can’t do this. It has to stop. Last night shouldn’t have happened we both drank too much and…”

“What? No! I came out here to be with you. I love you!”

“I know but I already told you, I met someone else. We are finally over,” with that he stood up, “I’m going to get ready for work. You need to figure out what you are going to do. When I come home tonight you need to be gone. I’m so, so sorry.”

Then he walked into the restroom and turned on the shower as I covered my head in his blanket and cried. Not long after I heard him leave. I stayed in his bed until an hour before his work shift ended that evening and I never stopped crying. Redbeard and I had been on and off since we were 16 years old and in high school. He had moved to California two years back to be with me. Roughly six months before this he left because things weren’t working out. At the time I knew it was the right thing to do what I didn’t know was that I wouldn’t get over him. I had changed and I wanted to show him. However it was too late, he had already moved on. As a matter of fact he had just met the woman he would later marry.

I was devastated. This is still one of the worst days of my life.

So I did what any heart-broken, hot ass 21-year-old idiot would do in my situation. That’s right, I went to the local dive bar to drink away my pain: The Double Down Saloon in Las Vegas. I had nowhere to live nor any money but it didn’t matter, I would find a way to drown my sorrows!


First call: to my friend Cory. He was working the door at a club down the street but would meet me after. Also, he told me to swing by on my way and he would loan me a twenty. After collecting the cash I parked at the bar and got out. I was wearing a tiny black dress that was probably more like a belt and 8 inch hooker heels, my standard. After stumbling my way inside, I ordered myself a shot of tequilla with a beer back. Finally, I was feeling better.

That’s when it happened.

“You are beautiful!” a female voice muttered from behind me.

I turned around, “Thank you,” I responded while noticing this bitch had the biggest titties I had ever seen.

“Do you party?” she asked me.



“Fuck, yes.”

“Follow me,” she instructed.

Happily I did. She grabbed me by the hand and led me into the ladies room. This was no bathroom for ladies. The walls were graffitied, covered in stickers and the floor was tacky with dried urine. It probably hadn’t been cleaned since the 80’s. The second I saw her pull out a little white baggie and start cutting lines on the toilet lid I stopped caring. As a matter of fact I was helpful and I rolled up a $5 bill in preparation. She let me go first. I sniffed that baby like it was a bottle of Chanel Number 5. Almost immediately I felt it, I was so happy. Also, I couldn’t shut the fuck up. Cocaine does that to me.

After, I went back to the bar and bought a round of drinks for us.

“Come back over here,” she yelled at me from the corner of the bar. I started walking back with our drinks in hand when I saw it. There was my big ta-ta’d, new friend riding the mechanical pony, topless. Her melons were bouncing around like jiggley beach balls. So, I did what any respectful young lady would do, I pulled my dress over my head and straddled the pony while facing her. All the men at the bar liked this. As a matter of fact they were cheering us on while throwing dollars bills our way.

That’s when it happened, she kissed me. I don’t mean a peck either, I mean she stuck her tongue down my throat. I thought she might even swallow my face. If my throat hadn’t been numbed from the drugs I would have gagged. Actually, the fun was staring to go a little bit too far. Especially since I’m not really a lesbian. I hopped off “Her Little Pony” and was greeted by a group of strange men with a tray holding a dozen or so shots.

“These are for you girls!” one of the men, wearing a leather jacket and ripped T-shirt, shouted at me as I was attempting to slip my dress back on.

“Cool!” I said as I started slamming them one by one. I guess I could make out with chicks if it meant free drinks.

That was about where my memory ended.

The next thing I remember was a knocking sound, raw knuckles on glass. I turned my head and slammed onto something hard…metal?.. WTF?!?!?

I opened my eyes, I was in my car, in my trunk, almost smothered by my hatch back. My head was pounding, I was dripping sweat and lying on a soggy puddle of carpet fabric. It was June in Las Vegas after all. The temperture was in the high 90’s at midnight.

“*****! Wake up!” It was Corey.

“What the fuck happened?” I asked him.

“I have no clue, I was working, was gonna’ ask you the same thing. Ha! Do you still want to go?” he asked me.

“Go where?” I asked, half in a daze.

“The piercing shop, remember? You called me two hours ago and said you wanted to get your clit pierced. I talked to my friend and he says his shop is open until 2:00 AM. That still gives us more than an hour.”

“Fuck, yes. Duh, Corey! If you will still pay for it.”

“A long as I get to watch.”

I left my car in the lot and hopped into Corey’s truck. After a few miles we pulled into the lot. Next we entered the shop.

“I want to get my clit pierced,” I told the man at the counter.

“Ok, which type of piercing do you want?” he asked me.

“I just old you, my CLIT!” was this guy fucking retarded?

“Yes, but you can pierce it more than one way. You can either go…”

“What’s gonna feel better?” I interrupted him.


I looked over at Corey, “I think your friend is retarded. I’m too hung over to be dealing with this shit.”

“Sit down, actually, lay down,” the peircer instructed, “you want to pierce through the hood, we will give you a curved barbel to start.”

I hopped onto the piercing bed and removed my panties. Corey blushed. I braced, the cocaine had long since worn off and I was starting to come to the realization of what I was about to do.

However, I am not a pussy (pun intended). It was too late to back out.

“You are going to have to scoot your ass a little closer to the edge,” the peircer instructed me.

This was not fun. I was beginning to have flash backs of the abortion clinic.

Corey couldn’t look away. I noticed he was even starting to get an erection. Idiot, he was totally getting his 60 bucks worth on this show.

Quickly the needle was forced through my girlie part, followed by the jewelry. The pain wasn’t really that bad, I’d take a cunt piercing over a tattoo any day.

Once he was finished “bejeweling my va-jay-jay” I pulled up my panties, Corey paid the tab and we were off.

Next stop: Cheetahs, the strip club, for my interview.

Ya right, that’s totally a different story.

For more on my clit piercing:


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