Exhibit A Second Chance: What the Heck WAS That?
I was twenty three and working at a "gentleman's club" called Bare Elegance. Except that particular night. That night I had done a bachelor party. And I'd made A LOT of money.
I was already a little buzzed when I stopped by the club. One of the girls had called asking if I could give her a ride home. I went in and talked about how well the bachelor party went and how much money the guys spent. I did a couple of shots with my boss and some of the other girls and then I went to sit with one of our regular customers. His name was Will and I'd seen him at some time or another in every club I'd worked in. He never drank, he was a decent tipper, and he wasn't a perv. He was just lonely.
I was surprised to see Will that night. He'd been dating one of the girls and they had just broken up. I just assumed that maybe it had been a mutual thing so I really didn't think any more about it. Will bought me a couple of drinks and had me go tip a few girls for him. We talked about his birds and about the party I just done. Just general chit chat. I told him a joke that my daughter had recently learned at school and he thought it was so cheesy that it was actually funny.
I got up to go to the restroom and just barely noticed that Will's former girlfriend had just stepped on to the stage. I was buzzed on the evenings high and the alcohol and not really paying much attention. Then I heard Will yell "Christina" and after that a loud bang. I screamed and ducked behind the partition that hid the bathroom doors. I looked out to see Will lying on the floor. His chair was tipped over onto its back and there was blood. So much blood.
One of the girls was pulling me into the bathroom by my arm. I was still screaming and telling her that we had to go out, that Will had been shot and needed help. She told me to shut up and shoved me into a bathroom stall. She kept telling me that Will would be okay but that someone out there had a gun and we needed to hide. She called 911 from her phone and then kept holding me in the bathroom so I'd stay there.
When the police finally came they found us in the bathroom when they searched the club. When they brought us out we had to step over Will's body. They hadn't covered him or even tried to. They just left him there.
The officers made us all go into the dressing room and told us to stay there. They wouldn't let us go to the basement area or use those bathrooms. If we had to go, we had to use the one on the main level which meant stepping over Will's body again. We were all questioned but especially Christina and myself. Apparently Will had gotten her attention and then shot himself. They kept asking me if he was drunk and I kept telling them that he'd been drinking coffee. Will NEVER drank. I could tell that they didn't believe me. They wanted to know what we had talked about and if I knew what he was planning. Then they told me how lucky I was because the bullet had lodged in the back of a chair. If it hadn't it would have hit me as I walked to the restroom. Why did I need to know that?
Because of where we were, the police treated us as if we were nothing and had no feelings. There was no sympathy or respect. And they showed none for Will either. They left him, uncovered and on the floor for almost five hours. They made jokes about him killing himself over "some stripper". They were awful. And so heartless.
There was no way I could drive when I left that night. I was numb. I called my boyfriend but his parents were in town and he didn't want to have to explain to them where I worked or where I was.
It was Moe who came to get me. I stayed with him for a week and he dealt with my nightmares and my fear of going back to work.
I'll never understand what prompted Will to kill himself that night. I think there was more going on than just breaking up with Christina. And I lost all respect for the officers who were there afterward.
Looking back at that night, all I can think is "What the Heck Was That"? Although not in terms that are that nicely spoken.
I still jump and cower at unexpected loud sounds. I find myself hyper aware of the moods of people around me and if someone mentions suicide I take it very seriously.
I go to Will's grave every year and leave flowers. And every single time I ask him why. Maybe one day I'll get an answer.
I was already a little buzzed when I stopped by the club. One of the girls had called asking if I could give her a ride home. I went in and talked about how well the bachelor party went and how much money the guys spent. I did a couple of shots with my boss and some of the other girls and then I went to sit with one of our regular customers. His name was Will and I'd seen him at some time or another in every club I'd worked in. He never drank, he was a decent tipper, and he wasn't a perv. He was just lonely.
I was surprised to see Will that night. He'd been dating one of the girls and they had just broken up. I just assumed that maybe it had been a mutual thing so I really didn't think any more about it. Will bought me a couple of drinks and had me go tip a few girls for him. We talked about his birds and about the party I just done. Just general chit chat. I told him a joke that my daughter had recently learned at school and he thought it was so cheesy that it was actually funny.
I got up to go to the restroom and just barely noticed that Will's former girlfriend had just stepped on to the stage. I was buzzed on the evenings high and the alcohol and not really paying much attention. Then I heard Will yell "Christina" and after that a loud bang. I screamed and ducked behind the partition that hid the bathroom doors. I looked out to see Will lying on the floor. His chair was tipped over onto its back and there was blood. So much blood.
One of the girls was pulling me into the bathroom by my arm. I was still screaming and telling her that we had to go out, that Will had been shot and needed help. She told me to shut up and shoved me into a bathroom stall. She kept telling me that Will would be okay but that someone out there had a gun and we needed to hide. She called 911 from her phone and then kept holding me in the bathroom so I'd stay there.
When the police finally came they found us in the bathroom when they searched the club. When they brought us out we had to step over Will's body. They hadn't covered him or even tried to. They just left him there.
The officers made us all go into the dressing room and told us to stay there. They wouldn't let us go to the basement area or use those bathrooms. If we had to go, we had to use the one on the main level which meant stepping over Will's body again. We were all questioned but especially Christina and myself. Apparently Will had gotten her attention and then shot himself. They kept asking me if he was drunk and I kept telling them that he'd been drinking coffee. Will NEVER drank. I could tell that they didn't believe me. They wanted to know what we had talked about and if I knew what he was planning. Then they told me how lucky I was because the bullet had lodged in the back of a chair. If it hadn't it would have hit me as I walked to the restroom. Why did I need to know that?
Because of where we were, the police treated us as if we were nothing and had no feelings. There was no sympathy or respect. And they showed none for Will either. They left him, uncovered and on the floor for almost five hours. They made jokes about him killing himself over "some stripper". They were awful. And so heartless.
There was no way I could drive when I left that night. I was numb. I called my boyfriend but his parents were in town and he didn't want to have to explain to them where I worked or where I was.
It was Moe who came to get me. I stayed with him for a week and he dealt with my nightmares and my fear of going back to work.
I'll never understand what prompted Will to kill himself that night. I think there was more going on than just breaking up with Christina. And I lost all respect for the officers who were there afterward.
Looking back at that night, all I can think is "What the Heck Was That"? Although not in terms that are that nicely spoken.
I still jump and cower at unexpected loud sounds. I find myself hyper aware of the moods of people around me and if someone mentions suicide I take it very seriously.
I go to Will's grave every year and leave flowers. And every single time I ask him why. Maybe one day I'll get an answer.