"if the jizzum isn't hizzum...."

Right after I turned 18, I got a job working for an 'adult' production company called BackEnd Productions. Meg Loyal got me the job because I was in dire need of work and she was the receptionist. I'm just that much of a smooth talker that I bullshit my way into this job. Little did they know that everyone they'd hire after me would eventually be the demise of the company.

The company was fairly new, so they hired outbound people to call mom and pop video stores to sell these dvds. Essentially I spent my day talking dirty to old women and Indian men named Patel from Nowhere, USA. Imagine talking dirty to your grandma. Yeah, sweet life.
The title we were selling was called "He Said, She Said" and it was a spoof on the Kobe Bryant case which was obvs the hot ticket at the time.
[Sidebar... Lexington Steel was in it and, and man, let me tell you...that fool has the biggest dick I've ever seen. Fuck that. Anyway...]
The best part about this job was when people would literally try to have phone sex with me. It happened all the time, and I could pretty much say whatever I wanted to them and/or hang up on them. Hanging up on people has to be one of the best things ever. It was also great when I had to call in the Bible Belt. If they sold porn, they would have me talk to someone else "in private" and they would talk about how porn is a sin and all this crazy religious stuff, and I was allowed to say, "Hey, you gotta get your rocks off somehow." The best response by far though was "we don't sell nigger porn...no one likes to watch white women get fucked by niggers."

Time went on, and we started hiring. So I somehow convinced my supervisor to hire Brooke. I begged him to hire her. Pleaded. And he finally did. And then he hired Sara. And Bijan. And Myke Turner. And pretty soon, the office was a big clusterfuck of hardcore kids who needed easy money. All my friends were working with me, and it ruled.
We spent the day bullshitting, making our supervisor do our work for us, eating hot cheetos, making fun of people's names (read: ANIL VATS) and listening to Bad Brains, Cro Mags and One Up [with some possible office mosh] I remember one day, Brooke and I went to our tattoo shop which was right next door, and she got tattooed on our lunch break.

At this point in time, Brooke and I drank ALOT. And by alot, I mean we'd go out at night, get trashed, go home at 2am, go to work at 7am, drink on our lunchbreak (her house was right down the street), go back to work, sell porn totally fucking hammered, go home, go out and do it all over again. It was awful, and I probably gained the brunt of my excess weight from drinking expensive fancy liqueours from France found in her dad's liquor cabinet.

Slowly, everyone started to get fired. Bijan and Myke were the first to go obviously because they were dudes. Then Sara. And it was just me and Brooke, because our boss loved us the most. (duh, obviously.) And then one day, Brooke got the axe. I was planning on going to Boston at the beginning of January, and a week before the trip, I was told the company was going under because we weren't selling enough, so I got laid off. I was so fucking upset. It was the best job I ever had. I got paid $10 +commish to fuck around with my friends all day long. And at the time, that was a pretty sizable amount for an 18 year old who didn't have any bills to pay.

No job has ever compared. RIP, BackEnd.

The night that the Persian Mafia almost killed me.

When I was 17, I took Cosmetolgy courses as part of my high school's ROP program. It was free, it was after school, and it sucked. There was a girl in my class who I went to remedial high school with (before I got kicked out) named Ciji, and while we were not friends in school, we were definitely attached at the hip in Cosmo because we didn't know (or want to know) anyone else. She lived down the street from me too, so we carpooled often. It didn't matter though because gas was like, $1.75 then and we lived like 10 miles from the school.
Ciji looked like Mariah Carey and loved Persian dudes. Persian dudes suck. Anyway, she had a boyfriend who was a real scumbag and would always give her problems. She'd always talk about some Persian Mafia type shit and in typical Martine fashion I always told her to ditch the zero and shut up about it. I think she even mentioned a time when he was physically abusive to her. That's a big no no.
One night, Ciji is driving us home from school and we notice a car is following us. Not in the "oh, weird that car is going in the same direction as us" sense, it was in the "holy fucking shit, that car is following us." So she starts going down all these weird inconvenient side streets and sure enough the car does too. At this point I'm freaking out and asking her if she knows whats going on and again she spouts some shit about the Persian Mafia and her boyfriend and yadda yadda and I'm like "CIJI DON'T GO HOME, DON'T BE DUMB JUST GO TO THE POLICE STATION." And in typical dumb slut fashion, she says "no, I can't. They'll just drive off and wait til the cops are gone to fuck with me." I'm shitting bricks, and she turns up the street to my house and we hit a stop sign. The car cuts us off, stops in front of us, almost hitting her, and two Persian dudes with baseball bats get out and run at the car. She books it back to the 101 with these assholes in tow and I'm screaming at the top of my lungs about to cry thinking "oh my god I'm going to die because of this fucking goon." She calls her boyfriend and he's at some park in Tarzana laughing at her, so we end up there and a couple exits before that, we lose these fucking baseball bat wastes of life. Once at the park, Ciji's boyfriend YELLS AT HER because of what happened, even though it was somehow his fault (I don't exactly remember why..don't drink ever.) and instead of going home in a timely manner, I had to sit in the park with this cunt and her boyfriend for 2 hours until she brought me home. In this two hours, the boyfriend just berated, talked down, and shoved Ciji. I guess she deserved it for being such an idiot loser and almost getting us both killed by having a furball for a boyfriend. I held my tongue ever so gracefully.
Shortly after this incident, Ciji dropped out of class and we stopped being friends. That's fine, because I could never be friends with someone who would put my life in danger. Thats just selfish business. Since that day, whenever I drive to my mom's house at night, I'm terrified someone is following me.