Roxie Velveteen

My life boils down to the bare essentials in more ways than one.

Seattle is an ok place to live most of the time. It’s good because it’s big enough to get lost in. You can go somewhere and not have to worry about somebody recognizing you and exposing all of your secrets for the world to see. It’s a big enough place to keep your work and social lives separate. The city is so full of diversity that you never feel like you stand out because of the way you dress or the car you drive. Everyone is a carbon copy of someone else. They just don’t know it yet.

The problem with Seattle is that sometimes, you don’t know where you belong. The apartments around you change inhabitants every two months. Suddenly, you become the tenant that’s been in the same dinky apartment for two years. Your coworkers come and go. Suddenly, you’re the seasoned pro. There’s no one place you can call home. When you say you live in Seattle, no one ever asks questions because somewhere, a piece of you belongs to the entire city. You don’t belong to your city or your apartment or your lover. Seattle owns more of you than you can control.

It rains too often here. Just when you think you’ve hit a dry spell, you wake up to the sound of thunder or the crash of lightening. You hear the rain hitting the roof and you feel like the walls are caving in. Suddenly, the world seems like a scarier place than you’d always dreamed about when you were a child.

I don’t know if it’s just me.

In my profession, you can’t become attached to anyone. No matter what, someone is always going to get hurt. No matter how hard you try to prevent it, there are always going to be name callings and tears. I was told this when I first got my job, but I guess I always have to learn the hard way.

My name is Avery Daniels and I am a stripper.

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