The Sunset Strip Diaries (7 page)

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Authors: Amy Asbury

Tags: #Biography & Autobiography, #Women, #Personal Memoirs, #Social Science, #Women's Studies

BOOK: The Sunset Strip Diaries
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After a few sips of Southern Comfort, I became drunk.  I tried to look at all of the street names on the way because I was sure I was going to end up stranded and need to call my dad. I remember seeing the street name Coldwater Canyon and thinking,
Damn… I have never been this far from home without my parents!
Jamie told me we were going to his buddy Teddy St. John’s house and not to embarrass him.

 

I stumbled into Teddy’s place completely inebriated. I somehow noticed that there were bullet holes in the wall as I was told that two other girls were going to join us. The first one came over a few minutes later and we went to pick up the second one. Once everyone was in the car, Teddy got in the passenger seat with Jamie and I got in the back with the two other girls. We drove to Santa Monica beach. They laid down a woven blanket, and starting passing the bottle around in the darkness. Jamie sighed and said to me in a bored manner, “Let’s go take a walk and look at the lights of the pier.” He didn’t even sound like he was trying to be con
vin
cing. I was too much of an easy target.

 

We walked toward the ocean and he said, “Let’s stop here.” He laid down my leather jacket in the sand and told me to lie down. I did. He started kissing me and the only thing I could think was that it was different from Jeff Hunter. He tasted like cigarettes and I could smell his leather pants- they must have been real leather, not pleather, because they were very fragrant. He kissed me for a few more seconds and then started pulling off my clothes. The phrase “Oh shit” slid through my rubbery mind. I didn’t know how to get out of it. My mind was slow; my body was limp and lifeless. I felt paralyzed. He pulled out a condom and started to put it on and lay on top of me.
Think of something!
I tried to tell myself as I heard the waves crashing near us.

 

Then I got an idea. I would pretend to pass out. I let my head drop backwards and shut my eyes. He yelled “Shit!” and started calling my name in a loud tone. He kind of smacked my head a little to wake me up. I pretended not to wake up and hoped he would just leave me alone and get dressed.  Not a chance. He began to have sex with me, thinking I was passed out. It hurt so badly when he tore my hymen that I couldn’t pretend that I was passed out anymore. I grimaced with pain. I didn’t want him to do it and yet I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t say no. I couldn’t move my body, I just laid there in the sand. It didn’t even slightly cross my mind to push the person off of me and kick him the balls and yell
No
!
It didn’t cross my mind to push his hands away, or resist in any way at all. I truly thought it was all I was worth.

 

After a few thrusts he stopped, pissed off. He told me to get up and get dressed. He must have either seen that it was hurting me, or thought I was too much of a dead fish, but either way he stopped. It was too late for me though, because I had lost my virginity. I had only had my first kiss a few months prior, and I was on my very first date and had just had my very first sip of alcohol.

 

Later that night, as they were taking me home so they could continue to party with the other two girls (Jamie screwed another of the girls that night as well), I had them pull over so I could throw up on the side of the freeway. I was spinning and miserable. They dumped me off at my house at two or three in the morning and sped off. I don’t remember which of my parents yelled at me, but I was miserable and humiliated and I knew I was in over my head.

 

Once I was in my room, I started crying and peeled off my zebra-striped underwear. I looked down in them and saw blood, which sobered me up enough to realize that I had lost my virginity to someone I had just met. Someone who talked down to me… someone who had intercourse with me while he thought I was passed out.  I glanced down closer at the blood in my underwear and saw something shining- it was my cross earring. I am not kidding, this really happened. My heart stopped. I was staring at this cross and thinking …
Oh shit. Is this another sign? Is the ground going to break open and suck me down into the fiery pits of hell?
I was certain God was going to plum fuck me up for being so awful and for going against all of His wishes. I was sure of it. I pulled the earring out of my underwear, put it on my dressing table, and passed out.

 

The next day I was told I was grounded. My parents no longer trusted me and I was embarrassed and ashamed. I was torn between feeling bold and brazen that I had had such a crazy night and feeling guilty and regretful. I went from crying in my pillow to getting a rush thinking about being in the car with long-haired guys and drinking and being a grown up. All and all, I don’t think I understood how special and chaste virginity was. I do remember feeling that it was very final- I couldn’t turn back and be a kid again. It bothered me, but I brushed it off. My first reaction was to get out my Barbie dolls and play with them. I think I washed all of their hair. I also made sure to hang out with Karen and try to be my old self by playing around, crank calling, spying on neighbors, all the things we did as preteens.

 

Jamie never called me again. He completely avoided me at school. I thought,
Wow. Okay. So this is how it works?
I had this…this…certain body part. And...guys wanted to get at it. They wanted to have sex. And that was it. I ruled out that it was some pleasurable thing. It certainly was not that. It was…it was…I didn’t know
what
it was to me. I suddenly had questions. I didn’t know who to talk to, who to confide in. I was irked that I couldn’t find out more information on sex. As much as it was flaunted all over the place on MTV, the actual details of it seemed so guarded, so hushed. I just didn’t understand the whole thing. In my mind, it was definitely not something regarded as emotional, loving or in any way special- why did parents, schools, and churches try to tell you it was?

 

Two weeks later I met another long-haired boy at school named Matt. I don’t remember if I liked him or he liked me or how it happened, but I think he just came up and asked me out. He asked me if I wanted to go to a party on Halloween weekend. It was exactly two weeks after my first date. My parents didn’t stick to their “you’re grounded” rule, because they let me go with him.

 

This boy was a senior. He was not a Hollywood guy, but what the hell. He had long, brown hair and blue eyes and looked like he could have been a bad rocker kid but he was actually somewhat of a nerd. He drove his vintage Mustang up to my house and came to the door as my mother wanted. It was all shot to hell though, when my father told him, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” in a joking manner, with a wink-wink ‘between the guys’ tone. He more or less gave his blessing for the boy to screw me. I was so confused. Is this
okay
with him? My
father
?

 

I wore an all-white dress and really high white stilettos, trying to look like Tawny Kitaen in the Whitesnake “Is This Love?” video. I didn’t realize that fifteen-year-olds, shit, even twenty-
five-
year-olds were not dressing like that. I may have been dressed appropriately for a Hollywood party, where ‘over the top’ was a necessity to stand out over all the other girls, but at a high school
kegger
? I was the only girl there dressed as if I was working the ho stroll. I immediately started drinking antiseptic-tasting Bacardi 151, which is apparently all they had. It took me precisely five minutes to be incredibly drunk.

 

I remember when it hit me I could barely stand. I felt embarrassed because I knew I had to throw up. I crept away and locked myself in the bathroom. As I was throwing up, everything started spinning. I think I passed out shortly thereafter. I don’t know how long I was in there, but a girl finally broke in. I remember people helping me down the stairs so my date could take me home. I was like rubber- I couldn’t even hold myself up. I heard one person saying that they should put me in a shopping cart. I remember thinking …
Wow…people are making fun of me, I am a fool.
I blacked out shortly thereafter. I don’t remember getting into his car, I don’t remember us driving. I just remember waking up in the backseat. It was dark and I was looking up at a streetlight. There was someone on top of me and my dress was up around my waist. The guy was having sex with me. I was being date raped.

 

Losing my virginity had not been my idea but I was too afraid to say no. This time I literally woke up to find this person on top of me. I was asleep! The guy stopped when he realized I was awake. He seemed to feel guilty. He tried talking with me until I sobered up. He was not arrogant like Jamie, but he had just raped me while I was passed out. He certainly didn’t think my father would hunt him down and shoot him, that’s for sure.

 

I didn’t get home that night until four in the morning and I was in huge trouble. I couldn’t tell my parents what had happened. I could only cry. It was a crying like no crying I had ever experienced. It was a deep, thick, hard sort of crying, coming from way inside my guts.

 

The next few weeks were suicidal for me. I wanted to kill myself. It hit me what I had done. I had purposely created this sexy image and I now had a reputation of being a person that was not
me.
I looked like a girl who wanted to have sex! And I didn’t
want
to have sex! I had a closet full of sexy clothes and high heels and bins full of makeup. I wanted out. I wanted to say “Cut!” to the director and walk off the set. I had just started the tenth grade only a month and a half prior and I still had
three
more
years
of this? I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to do it. I truly wanted to die. I couldn’t talk to anyone. I couldn’t look anyone in the eye. I smoked cigarettes and hid in the bathroom stalls, crying in my leather jacket. I started ditching all of my classes and failing everything. I walked around in a daze, my hair a mess, tears at the edges of my eyes.

 

A few weeks passed and I didn’t get a period. I thought,
No way
.
I can’t be pregnant by this Matt guy… I am fifteen. What have I done?
I waited another week. I still didn’t get my period. When I was two weeks late on my period, I started to look for Matt to tell him. He tried to dodge me; I couldn’t get him to talk to me.  He had avoided me, just as Jamie had quickly done. He probably heard from Jamie that I was easy, for all I know. Anyway, when I finally got him to talk to me, the first thing I noticed was that he looked hideous. He had short, feathered bangs; yellowed skin, and super hesher brown hair. After getting a good look at him I thought,
Why did I go out with this ugly bastard?
He was very short with me and said he had to be somewhere. I felt like I was starring in an After School Special. I told him that I was late on my period. I can’t remember what he said- I think he said he would pay for half of an abortion or something. I went home and cried my eyes out. Things were not going as planned. I was supposed to be flipping my hair in slow motion somewhere.

 

I was reeling into a deep depression. I knew I couldn’t turn back time and take my virginity back. I did a lot of walking around by myself during that time- I walked around my neighborhood, crying and smoking. I was usually barefoot- I couldn’t tell you why. I think it was the beginning of a mental illness. My mind was splitting open and I just stopped caring.

 

I remember pouring a big mug of orange soda and walking down the hallway to my room. In the middle of walking, I threw the mug against the wall and kept walking. The soda splattered all over the wall and the mug and ice cubes fell to the carpet. I didn’t even look back or miss a beat. It was that feeling of just truly not caring. Nothing mattered- why was I even alive? I went in my room, shut the door, and started writing. My dad opened the door not too much later and asked me if the mug was mine. I lifelessly said yes. He threw each ice cube at me with force. It hurt, and I knew I shouldn’t have dropped my drink on purpose, but I didn’t
care
. I didn’t care about
anything
. I just sat there, letting him pelt me with ice cubes, watching the look of anger on his face.

 

I ended up getting my period. I wasn’t pregnant. God gave me a pass. Did I learn my lesson? No. I put on a Guns N’ Roses shirt that Todd Lewis had given me (because he was now into Public Enemy), and went out to find more trouble. I did do one smart thing though: I put myself on birth control pills. If I was going to have sex or even just be too drunk to know what was going on, then I needed a safety net. I didn’t want to add an unwanted pregnancy to the mix.

 

In mid-November, I was walking down the street yet again. A big red truck rolled by with a
Sunset Strip Tattoo
bumper sticker on the back. It was a sign of Hollywood, where I wanted to be. I thought,
This is my chance.
I won’t mess up this time.
A cute guy and his friend leaned out the window to talk to me and I felt adrenaline. I didn’t think,
Walk away. Now. You are in enough trouble
. I thought,
This will be exciting. Older guys! From Hollywood!
I chatted with them for a few minutes, asking about the bumper sticker and trying to feel out if they actually hung on the Sunset Strip. They did.
I
gave them my number. Soon thereafter, the main guy, Casey, was picking me up from school and from my house more times than I cared for.

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