Maybe it's a 'me' thing, where adapting to civilian life is challenging... Loved the girls, loved the camaraderie, loved the physicality of it all... After my boyfriend-at-the-time/forever-partner-now broke his knee, I became his primary caretaker after 12 years of dancing- through physical therapy, through the month+ in a wheelchair- I was there. I'm retired now. I miss ALOT but NOT unpredictable money or fending of super creepy pervs. Working together as he is in recovery but...
Occasionally, I find that my 'she-don't-take-no-shit' mentality take over. Was in the line at our local corner store to buy us both a couple packs of cigarettes (side note:if you 'chide' me for smoking, I will report you for offensive behavior) and a dude walked up, mid-transaction, for specifically numbered scratch offs. At the time, the poor cashier, whose name I'd just asked the pronunciation of, was trying to read the neon price tag on my pellegrino.
And find my cigarettes.
After I swiped my card, I told him 'that's really fucking rude.' The older Indian lady was STUNNED. He didn't get it and said that he was just talking to her and not interrupting anything. Once I was finished, I walked out the door, propped it open, and yelled that I hoped that he choked on his own dick. Took my hair down, removed my overcoat, and made sure that he couldn't see me...
I would really love to know that it isn't just me that has these breaking moments...



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