Chapter 10   West Warwick, Rhode Island, Jan. 8, 1979   UPI & Binghamton, NY Jan 29, 1979

Written 7-31-22

 

First a reporter from UPI called me. This was unusual as I usually called them. We hit numerous papers coast to coast including front pages. I got people sending me copies from places like Guam.

The young reporter took his own image & I wish I had worn a brighter costume, it was black with a big white flower in my hair & I held a fan, so it was like a flamenco dancer.

The townspeople are usually curious about the star that appears in a local venue. This was right in town, they {I passed a barber shop on the way} saw me walk to the nearby Church across the street, where I attended daily Mass & stayed for prayers which took 45 minutes – my usual routine, I had a hardbound book called ‘Enchiridion of Indulgences.’

The fact that I had this habit put me in good stead with the locals; they looked at me like a saint. A man who worked in the theater – was he a janitor? – prayed about me. He asked God to tell him if I was legit. That night he was awakened by a lady standing next to his bed who told him I was. He explained this to the press. His vision was portrayed in the article

“He said he saw an Angel.”

I minded my own business, did my work & prayed.

Prayers became more fervent when I was told Mom had lung cancer & was given 6 months to live. I pled God,

“Don’t let her go to Hell, I’ll pay for her sins.

I have enumerated her sins against me & others in other volumes. This begs the question, why don’t I just forget the bad stuff, concentrate on the good?

The answer is, it’s an integral part of my life. You cannot know just the good that happened to a person & leave it there, you must know both sides.

The bad as well as the good determine one’s character & virtues. If you react to bad with hate, revenge & bitterness, you’ve failed the test. If you react with forgiveness & love, you’ve won.

Had I reacted badly to the cruelty people put on me my life would be a failure, & I’d have to live again to purify my soul. But I don’t intend to live again. I came here in the first place to help humanity, & if I fell down now, it would not befit an avatar.

I lived the week in West Warwick in a place of bliss – which is how I usually feel when I do my business & don’t get involved with people. The highlight was when a man took me to a petting zoo, I got to pet goats. He said,

“So that’s what brings you to life.”

The owner of the theater saw me silent except when the press was there, & funny, he also said,

“So that’s when you come to life.”

Apparently, I’m not like other women they knew. What were other women like? The ones I met incessantly talked about their ex husbands or boyfriends, life revolved around men {how bad they were of course}. In fact, now that I’d been celibate for 6 months I tried not to think about them at all.

 

          Jan 29, 1979, Binghamton NY

 

          This was, without a doubt, one of he most wretched jobs I’d ever had to contrast with the previous one; from Heaven to Hell. Everything was bad.

The owner was a mean, angry, cranky crook – Pat Lebous. His relative was the Chief of Police, the name is big in this area, but Pat was no biggie. I negotiated myself so as usual, without an agent, you haven’t got a chance. I asked for $5 at the door but he insisted, again & again, the local people wouldn’t pay it. I think I got a flat rate for 1.5k a week for 2 weeks when it should have been at least 3k. I had hit the international news over & over, the place was packed.

Then when I got there he charged $7 at the door because of MY publicity. I called the press – not he. I called the local TV show & got on it – not he. He gave me no press conference, nothing. The business was my doing, but he got the money. And how did he cheat the other performers? There was a black MC & a black co-star. The co-star he paid – I kid you not – $150 a week. When she told me – I don’t know what he paid the MC – I gave them each $100 from my money. The poor female was trying to live off tips & private shows.

There was no food. I mean we were stranded in the middle of a rural area & to take a cab, as usual, in these type places, by the time you took taxis back & forth to eat – you’d spend a fortune & even I could not afford it. {Mind you, I only averaged 10 jobs a year when I was lucky!} The poor MC told me he was starving. I took a cab to a grocery store & I bought us some things like sardines & boxes of dry cereals. That’s what we lived off.

His manager did take me one time to drum up business – I took flyers to many places including the Police Dept where his cousin was Chief. The Chief came & brought his wife & others – I think he appreciated me, they seemed happy during the visit. And they told me he’d not talked to his cousin Pat for years – this broke the ice & they made up.

With the business standing room only I felt it was time to re-negotiate. In the office {where I dressed btw} I told Pat that I was not staying the second week because he’d cheated me. He went crazy, began to shout & throw furniture around!

Frightened, I ran out, went to my motel across the street. The next morning I called the police & asked them to have someone go with me back to the place to get my costumes & stuff. They were reluctant, but I begged, & finally, one nice highway officer came, & I got my stuff, with Pat Lebous acting meek & mild.

Then he sent his wife to my room – she had to be a saint because anyone who put up with this man was. She pleaded over & over he’d never bother me again – wouldn’t come near me, she’d even be there herself every night, even though she was weak from a recent operation. It was all about money – they did not want to lose the big bucks I generated. Nothing was spoken of about paying me more. I felt sorry for the lady & because of her I worked the second week, & true to her word, he didn’t come near me & she was there each night.

 

 

 

The Nuns

 

The second week I decided to visit these nuns, who were friends of my then best friend, Dr. Ewert Cousins from Fordham & Columbia Universities. He said when I preached in Binghamton, pay them a visit. {I never told him I was a stripper, only a preacher, & when he found out after 5 years, our relationship ended. His voice shook when he asked me if I was a stripper, I knew we were doomed so I never called again.} During our friendship we had lunch a few times & spoke every Sunday for a long prayer session – even when I was in Hawaii for 3 months in 1984, I’d call him on a pay phone that took plenty clangy change! I mean $20 worth!

Well, I went to see these nuns & they were gracious, sister Mack {not her real name} had taken her Dad’s name for her investiture. Unfortunately, I had no wheels & asked a dancer to take me – she also dragged another dancer along who looked like a hooker, with red opera hose & a slinky dress. I didn’t want them to break my secret, so I said cool it!

We chatted with the nuns over an hour, it was great.

What was not great is ten years later, this area – where I said out loud I would NEVER live – I ended up moving not 10 miles from the nuns! I had forgot them & people told me there were nuns nearby who made their own wine.

I then contacted them & visited, but I was snubbed. Alas, they had found out I was a stripper, & although they loved me initially, wanted nothing to do with me. So much for charity & God’s love.

I had even applied, when I met them, to join their order – & they turned me down!

God comforted me saying I would not have been happy as a nun. Yes, I understand now, being a nun is not for me, I had other fish to fry. I could maintain my religious life by myself, as quasi hermit, I could be celibate by myself, I needed to become a Cougar later in life. None of this would have happened had I been a nun. No, I was totally different from other women, a life like mine had never been lived & I had to live it no matter how eccentric I seemed. {End Chapter 10}