Before Porn, There Was The Nine to Five

The first job I ever had was working at the Brunswick Bowling alley in Murrieta. I was fifteen years old and excited about being that much closer to my independence. I worked the snack bar and for those of you who have had the unfortunate luck of serving in the fast food industry, I feel your pain. It was disgusting and I had a hard time masking my disgust to customers. My manager was a cunt who would sneak into the back freezer to chow down on ice cream. I lasted two weeks.

*Update: To this day, that shitty manager, (whom I also went to high school with), still works at the bowling alley. She’s been promoted to Bartender.*

My second job came after high school graduation, while I was waiting for classes to begin in San Diego. I worked at this lovely little candy shop, “The Chocolate Florist.” We sold chocolate covered strawberries, ice cream, and novelty items. And by that I mean, we had edible penises in both white and dark chocolate, as well as edible vaginas and boobs. They were famously known for their novelty chocolates. The place was run and owned by an old lady from Germany and her husband, whom I never saw. Working with her was a nightmare. It was as though she went out of her way to make you feel worthless, lazy or not smart enough for the job. I was there for three months until she decided to fire me. Her reasons were extremely vague, but she did promise to write me a good reference.

*Update: The Chocolate Florist was bought and sold and is now a health food store, with fresh fruits and veggies. All the chocolate penises and vaginas are forever lost.*

It’s probably every young girls dream, who is fresh out of high school, to work at a trendy clothing store. You get to wear their product and receive 10% off, while listening to loud music and having first dibs on the new product coming out. I must have applied to all the hot, trendy, only-cool-kids-shop-here-stores. But alas, I was never the cool kid.

As a last resort I dropped off an application to this store called Izod. If you’re a golfer, please refrain from creaming your Fruit of The Looms. (Quick History: Yes, Izod used to be the little alligator that I was printed on every shirt. However, Lacoste bought the alligator many years ago. So, in place of the hip alligator is now a golfer). This would become my place of work fort two years. We sold golf clothes, golf socks, sweaters, pants that only your grandmother would wear and we were forced to listen to music that was specifically made for our older customers. And yes, you had to wear the Izod brand from head to toe. I went from a sales associate, to a floor supervisor and eventually became an assistant manager. I loved the people I worked with and the store manager became my close friend. One day, I fucked up on payroll hours and the district manager fired me right on the spot. Three days later she wanted me back and for a while I continued to work there, but became bored and unhappy. So, I QUIT.

*Update: This particular Izod was eventually forced to close up shop permanently for not making enough money.*

While working at Izod, I was hired for seasonal at See’s Candies. If you’ve ever been to a See’s Candies, please take notice of the embarrassing uniform the employees have to wear. We always had to wear pantyhose, as well as slips and black shoes. Our hair had to be clean and in a bun. I had hair below my fucking ass! So, just throwing it up in a bun was a damn nightmare. Aside from the atrocious uniforms, I actually enjoyed working there. It was around the holidays and we were busy from the moment we opened our doors to closing. It was fast paced and the hours just flew by. The pay was pretty excellent, too. However, working at any job during the holidays brings out the worst of the worst human beings. I had never experienced such rude customers in all my life until I worked at See’s Candies. When the holidays finally came to a close, the manager asked me to stay on. I did for a while. But suddenly, we weren’t so busy anymore and the days and hours would drag on and on. I was bored, bored, bored. So, without much notice, I quit.

*Update: See’s Candies is, well, actually nothing has changed. They’re still selling candy and I don’t believe there will be an upgrade to their employee uniforms anytime soon.

Does anybody here have a mother, father, grandparent with a heart stent(s)? Well, long before porn, I used to work at Guidant, which specialized in making heart stents for people and other such medical shit I can’t remember. I heard that the hours were long, but the pay was excellent. Before you could get hired, you had to pass a week long training program, which you were also being paid for. Once you passed the class, you were able to choose day shift or night shift. Both shifts are twelve hours long. I chose day shift, which meant that I began work from 4am-4pm. We had to dress head to toe in protective wear so that we would not introduce any bacteria into the lab. After all, these heart stents are going into people’s bodies. So safety measures went above and beyond. We were an assembly line of robots. My partner, who had been working there the longest, was going to teach me how to clean all the tools we used and that station we worked on. There was a certain way to clean and it was the ONLY way. However, my partner barely spoke english and I cold tell she hated my ass. I’d probably hate me too. I would fuck up. A lot. Many heart stents were unusable because of me. If you break too many heart stents, they eventually take it out of your check. I worked there for a month and hated everything about it. One day, I told my supervisor I had to use the ladies room and I never came back.

*Update: Guidant was recently sold to Abbott.*

After cruising through limbo for a little while, getting drunk on the weekends, sleeping in late, I finally ran out of money. A friend suggested applying at a casino, but warned me that the casino where me and said friend used to party almost every weekend, does not allow their employees to hang out there on their days off. Screw that. So, I drove a little further to the next casino…

Nestled in the hills, surrounded by trees and the scariest highway you’ll ever drive on, was Pala Casino. I filled out the application, had my interview right then and there, they took some hair for their drug test and a week later I was hired as a Motor Coach Greeter. Sounds like a made up position, but that’s what I was. Yes, the uniforms were a bit dorky, but I had worn much worse. And I got to have a “walkie-talkie,” which was cool and stuff. My job, along with a few others, was to greet the buses filled with people from all walks of life. Our job was to make sure they passengers visiting Pala Casino for the day had their ID and/or Players Cards and if they did not have a Players Card, we would make one for them. There were other little tid bits to the job, but they’re irrelevant here. The cool part about this job was not having to be inside the casino. We were all camped out outside. My shift was 8am-4:30pm. We had roughly twelve busses come through in the morning and night shift would make sure all twelve buses and their passengers were accounted for when they left. Very easy job. I’d say it was even one of my favorite jobs. I was with Pala for eight months. I had just turned twenty-two and was feeling restless and bored. Planning my next escape. Oddly enough, my escape found me. In the form of a Myspace message.

I had attended a Halloween party dressed as a little school girl. My friend took several pictures of me dressed as this innocent catholic school girls and one of the pictures ended up being my avatar picture for my Myspace profile. A week or so later I received an email from an agent in Chatsworth who said I had the look that she wanted. Young, fresh, girl next door type. The agent didn’t sugarcoat anything and told me exactly what it was her agency did and the type of girls they represented. It didn’t even phase me. We set up a meeting and two weeks later I was on my way to Porn Valley. At the time I was still with the casino and had no intentions of quitting. I spoke with this agent for a couple hours, talking about what I will and will not do, my rates etc. I told her that I definitely wanted to give it a shot and she told me that if it wasn’t for me I could leave.

After setting up a photo shoot, picking my stage name and uploading the pictures to the agency website, I got into my car and drove home thinking it would probably be weeks before I got booked for anything. Days later I was booked for my first BG porn shoot for Vivid. I was amazed at how fast It was.

On my way home from set I knew that I wanted to be a part of this industry. This is what I wanted to do. The next day I walked into human resources at the casino and told them I was leaving. I signed a few papers and I was out the door in less than ten minutes.

Six years later I’m still here and still loving it. I may have acted on impulse, but I wouldn’t change anything. I may fly very low under the radar, but it’s been one hell of an adventure.