Mega Edition: Billionaire Playboy's Club...A Memoir By Virginia Roberts (Part 8) (3/10/26)

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What's up, everyone?

And welcome to another episode of the Epstein Chronicles.

In this episode, we're picking up where we left off

with the Virginia Roberts memoir, The Billionaires Playboy Club.

It didn't take me long to get back into my own comfort zone,

heading straight back to my cabana after dessert

was served nearly tripping over my own feet

as I tried to scuttle off in a hurry.

As soon as I entered my domain, I drew a breath,

and sighed a deep exhale, outwards, finally alone,

and at peace.

For now at least, although the sun had set hours ago,

the high temperature of the Caribbean were still

an affliction, plaguing my cabana.

I was welcomed by a rush of warm air as I opened the door.

I hit the switch to the fan and stripped down for a shower.

Preparing my towel and toiletries,

I opened the back door to the outside shower

and placed them on the floor,

whether I was cleaning up in the midst of a hot day

or retiring for the evening,

and outside shower was always splendid.

Under the thick dark cloak of the night sky,

only the moon in stars to shed enough light

for me to see my way around.

I could feel the soft breeze,

lick droplets, falling off of my body's curves,

in the reflection of the moonlight.

It only encouraged me to stay longer

under the warmth from the spray of rushing water.

I let the hot water run out

before I was sufficed enough to go back inside.

Lounging around the bed,

in my panties in a tank top,

I was still sweltering from the heat.

Trying to tire myself out, I did some reading

and eventually fell asleep.

I needed those times to unwind

after such an ordeal,

letting the Xanax wash away all of my pain.

I could then forgive the mistakes I had made,

blaming myself for staying around for this I had wished.

I had never been born at all.

The pills would take all of that away from me.

My heart was tangled in a weave of deception and pain,

only reassured by the lies that were told to me

and the lies I would have to convince myself of.

When we flew back into Palm Beach,

Juan drove me back to my apartment,

lonely for some companionship I decided

to call an old friend.

I was longing to be important to someone

and unfortunately with such little time

to have a social life of my own,

I was compelled to call TJ again.

His mom answered the phone

and sounded quite surprised to hear my voice

on the other end.

She was always kind to me.

I even used to bring her back cola cans

from other countries,

a bizarre hobby she loved collecting.

She just didn't know what to say

or what I saw on her son,

even saying that to his face many times over,

not blind to his ways of cheating

and stealing being a personal victim of it.

She made it apparent that he did not approve

of TJ's choice in a lifestyle.

It used to really hurt him,

how his parents thought so badly of him,

so he gave up trying to earn their love

a long time ago.

As long as he didn't steal from them anymore,

he was allowed to live there.

Instead of that being a lesson to him,

he would just try to be more clever

and what he would steal, less obvious things.

He would steal the toaster and sell it for $5

if he knew it would help him get his next high.

Nonetheless, and at my expense,

I had a sweet spot for him.

With enough water under the bridge,

I was able to forget about the troubles he caused.

His mom told me she'd passed on the message when he got home,

but that could be days from now.

The last time he had been home was a couple of weeks now.

He only stopped by to get something to eat,

have a long sleep, and beg for a few bucks,

supposedly to help him buy food.

Then he was off again without a single word.

Only leaving his parents with their own assumptions,

which were pretty much correct anyway.

I then called around a couple mutual friends

to see if anyone had heard from him.

Everyone I spoke to pointed their finger

in the same direction and the worst place possible,

Richie's house.

One of his best friends told me how he'd bad he'd been doing.

He's not the same guy anymore

and all he cares about is his next tie and where he gets it.

If we don't get anything for him, he just loses it

and goes off somewhere.

It was hard to hear how badly affected my best friend

was and a part of me secretly hoped they weren't right.

Still defending him, I told everyone I had spoke to

while trying to find him that TJ would be fine.

He's just probably going through a bad phase.

Like we all do sometimes and needs people

to have his back more now than ever.

I was pretty much laughed at on the spot.

Most people that I considered my friends at the time

were only friends by association.

As long as we all looked the part, acted the part,

and could handle the part, only then did they want

to be around us.

The last person I called was the last person I had hoped

he wasn't with and it turned out that everyone was right.

He was one of the biggest coke dealers in our area,

Richie Rich, as everyone used to call him.

He didn't look like a typical strung out junkier dealer

instead he looked like your average preppy college grad

with aspiring propositions.

He dressed well and acted like a nice guy

to the eminent clients only to get them hooked on his drugs

and then turns them in and onto the streets.

He was a businessman and his business was thriving.

He carried everything from the most dangerous drugs

to guns and knives.

Having ears in all places,

made him dangerous acquaintance using kids

off the local Palm Beach street to run his dirty errands

and the errands of the others above him.

He made his money by using these teenagers

who, as hard as it was to believe,

was once somebody sweet child.

I knew TJ didn't have his finances to support himself

or his drug habit so the likelihood of him being indebted

to Richie in other ways was a safe assumption.

Obtaining Richie's number from one of TJ's friends,

Marcus, he asked me,

what do you wanna call Richie for?

Come over to my place and I can get you whatever you want.

Marcus was a sleaze bag who would tirelessly continue

to try to appeal to my lesser sense of judgment,

never getting the hint or not just caring

that I could never and would never be interested in him.

No thanks Marcus.

Can I just get the number please?

It's very important that I get a hold of TJ.

I'm really worried about him.

I hated having to call this guy,

let alone ask him for something.

Is this about the Adam Bullshit?

Because if it is, you can let him know

what a fucking bitch he is for not showing up

to be there for him.

You can tell him that for me and that it's his fault

and he should have been there

and it should have been him that's lying in the morgue now,

not Adam.

I was totally thrown off by his allegation.

I could only mutter out of whisper,

did you just say that Adam's dead?

What happened?

Oh snap, I thought you knew

where you been girl under a rock or something?

Marcus was less insensitive about his statements.

He got shot in the head by two black guys

who got suspicious when their usual supplier didn't show up.

Your boy TJ was so fucked up,

he didn't even remember to turn up at Richie's

for the delivery,

so Richie sent Adam alone and now he's dead.

Adam was a sweet kid who had just happened

to be born living on the wrong block,

best friends with TJ since childhood.

The two were inseparable until puberty hit

and then they would chase girls together

and Adam followed in TJ's every footstep.

Mimicking his shadow if TJ jumped off the Eiffel Tower,

then so would Adam.

So then TJ got hooked on drugs consequently,

Adam did too,

leading ultimately to his death.

Wanting to end the conversation with Marcus quickly,

I scribbled down the number on the blank piece of paper

in front of me and hung up the phone call.

And then I called Richie's place immediately.

Yeah, it was Richie who bluntly answered the phone

after the first ring.

Hi, Rich, it's Jenna, TJ's ex.

We met a couple of times at a few parties.

I was trying to remind him of who I was

knowing how paranoid he was about people having his number.

Oh yeah, I know who you are.

What is it that you want?

He answered with a dry tone.

I was hoping you could tell me where I could find TJ.

I've heard some stuff and I'm really worried about him.

Is he all right?

Richie snickered at my concerns

where he was mom or something.

He's fine.

He should be back here around five o'clock.

I'll tell him you called.

In the middle of me saying thank you

and goodbye, you hung up the phone

as there is no room for manners and his line of work.

I waited until five o'clock watching the minutes

on the clock tick by and when five o'clock came and passed.

With no phone call, I couldn't deny to myself

that I wasn't stricken with distress.

Falling asleep wasn't easy either.

I ended up crashing out on my sofa, watching TV,

have expecting to hear another murder on the news

and it being TJ.

Forgetting to put on my eye mask before I went to bed,

I was woken up the next morning by rays of the sun

beaming into my living room.

When I sleep, I am a creature of darkness

avoided any window light at all costs.

Staggering to the coffee pot,

not used to getting up this early,

my first thought that day was TJ

and why he hadn't called.

A million thoughts rushed through my head

like a steam train, is he okay?

Is he not calling because he's still mad

from our last break up?

As he moved on to someone else, is he in trouble?

Did Richie even pass on my message?

The thoughts weren't an endless inflection

consuming my entire day.

Until finally he called my cell phone later in the afternoon,

relief swept over me when I heard his voice

on the other end.

Thank God you called.

I've been so worried about you, are you all right?

I jumped in without letting him know

or get past saying hello.

Yeah, I'm fine, Richie told me.

You called his house looking for me yesterday

and gave me shit for saying

you were upset or something, what's up?

I knew I would have to dedicate

about asking what happened to Adam,

thinking he'd be a mess over it.

I heard from Marcus that something happened to Adam

and I got worried about you, what's going on TJ?

TJ sounded scared for what reasons were beyond my knowledge,

but I was going to find out.

He replied, I don't wanna talk about it over the phone.

Are you in town so we can meet up or something?

It was obvious I wanted him to know

that I was more than willing to lend my shoulder

for his problem.

I'm home now if you wanna come over

whenever you feel like it.

He didn't hesitate and taking me up on the offer,

but I won't be able to get there until later.

I'm downtown at Richie's place

unless you wanna come pick me up.

It was more of a request than a favor to myself,

which is what he was making it out to sound like,

knowing him all too well, I didn't make a fuss

of his ill contemplated attributes.

I got the address off him and made my way

into the ugliness of the not-so-dazzling parts

upon beaches downtown area.

Rollin' up my windows and lockin' the doors to my truck,

I nervously drove down the rough streets

trying to find Richie's apartment complex.

Knowing all too well, his history of the area,

it's not a place alone white girl in a nice truck

wants to be seen, many reports of the locals

rushing up the vehicles with a weapon demanding money,

cars, or just angry and out to hurt someone.

I was speeding through the streets,

wanting to get out of there as quick as I could,

a sad world we live in, with so much hurt

everywhere you look and nobody wanting to do anything about it,

just accepting the hopelessness of never being able

to achieve anything more than what our civilization

has succumbed to.

Being among one of these people,

we were similar in so many ways, only separated

by our personal fears and the different direction,

they pulled us into.

I drove straight through the open gates,

at the entrance to the complex and parked on the gutter

in front of Richie's block of units.

Crowd of people stood outside the block as I was entering,

being hit on and offered drugs simultaneously,

my cheeks went flush, and I put my head down,

not saying a word.

Lockin' up the corridors of the staircase,

looked like a scene out of a horror flick,

graffiti covered the peeling of green paint on the walls,

and the pungent stench of something rotting,

only to the worst of my imagination, filled my nostrils.

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I could hear baby screaming through the thin walls,

and trying to find the unit number was difficult

from the sporadic flickering of the fluorescent lights above me.

At last I found Richie's one, quite astonished with myself,

that I even made it this far.

I had to knock loudly on the door a few times before a young girl,

answered the door with eyeliner, bleeding down from her eyes,

her jet-black hair, was strung out, and a mess,

and she looked off her face on some hard drugs.

She had only her brawn and a short skirt to cover her private areas,

and a cigarette hung out of her mouth,

to complete the full picture of terrible state she was in.

She looked me down and up with a contempt,

and snubbed at me what do you want?

I maintain my politeness and told her TJ was expecting me.

She opened the door and walked away,

leaving me by myself to venture through,

looking for TJ.

All right folks, you're gonna wrap up right here,

and in the next episode dealing with the topic,

we're gonna pick up where we left off.

All of the information that goes with this episode

can be found in the description box.

What's up everyone, and welcome to another episode

of the Epstein Chronicles.

In this episode, we're diving right back in

to Virginia Roberts memoir, The Billionaire Playboy's Club.

Passing through the kitchen,

it looked like a hospital lab,

with syringes on the countertop and medicine containers,

flying around everywhere.

Minding my steps through the dirty house,

I walked to the back of the living room,

and found TJ in a K-hole strung out on a filthy couch.

Hey there, he acknowledged me with a giant smile

spread across his face.

He probably didn't even know who I am,

or who I was, from the dreadful state that he was in.

My first look at him in months, and I was in utter shock.

My jaw must have dropped to the floor at the very sight of him.

Never seeing him so skinny and unhealthy looking,

I took pity, and I wanted to help him,

before things got even worse,

and he ended up like Adam dead.

TJ, hey buddy, it's Jenna.

Remember I was coming to pick you up today?

You don't look so good.

What are you doing so messed up?

I don't think he could even understand

what I was even saying,

because he could only reply by giggling and rolling over,

patting the couch, as if it were a fluffy animal.

I stood over him now and raised my voice,

so he'd know I was serious and snap out of it a bit.

Get up TJ now.

I ushered Adam, and to get him off the couch,

repeated myself a few times, over, and with no response,

I knew I had to get physical.

Rolling him back over to face me,

again I smacked his face hard,

and I'm sure it stung,

but I got the reaction I had wanted.

He sat up and looked at me confused.

At least now, he was able to focus on my words,

requesting him to come with me.

He was just getting up from the couch and stumbling around

before falling down to the floor again,

putting his arms around my neck

and carrying the majority of his weight,

I helped him up many times over,

and down three flights of stairs into my truck,

and drove him back to my place.

It was a triumph on its own,

arriving downstairs in one piece.

Being the only person who really cared

if TJ lived or died,

I felt like it was my responsibility of helping him,

and it was my concern alone.

Thankfully, Jeffrey was in Palm Beach

for the next couple of days,

or weeks, entertaining royalty,

which gave me a little bit of time

to try and clean TJ up.

I called a few of his friends that I knew,

and I asked them to not to score any drugs for him,

pleading with them and telling them

that he was on the brink of death,

reminding them of their friendship between us all

that once existed before the drugs corrupted so many of us.

Some of them laughed,

telling me I was wasting my time with TJ

and others were nice enough to at least lie to my face politely,

and promise not to help him feed his addiction.

I just wanted to remedy all of his pain and problems,

but I felt so helpless fighting his battle against the streets.

I bought some marijuana for him to smoke,

hoping to subside the withdrawal as he was facing

over the next few days, but with no avail.

The only thing that would help him was my Xanax,

a few of those pills,

and he would go back to sleep,

only waking up to get more of them.

I would have to force him out of bed

to take a shower once a day

and make sure that he ate something.

He was more like a baby right now

than he was a boyfriend.

Too much in need of something I couldn't give.

When I went to see Jeffrey over the next course of days,

he picked out the dilemma I wore

spread across my face straight away.

You're back with TJ, aren't you?

It was so funny that he knew me so well.

Yeah, he's in a real bad place in his life right now

and he needs my help.

He looked astonished and replied,

pure a much better friend than I am.

I know people like him and trust me,

they never change.

No use in even trying.

I believed him,

to knowing I was stupid for even attempting to change TJ,

but my heart felt differently.

He was still a human being

and a good friend of mine just down at his worst.

That's what good friends are for.

I laughed back at his remark,

not wanting to take this conversation too much further.

I admire your loyalty at least,

but take my word for it.

He will hurt you again.

His words were chilling but true.

I had to find out for myself though.

Almost seeming like an actual friend for a second,

he ruined his brief momentary image by turning over

from the unfinished massage that I was giving him

and acquired his sexual longings from my worn-down soul.

Not only did he know that I didn't want to endure

any more demands tonight,

but his energy enhanced from knowing it too.

Looking up at him during the foreplay,

it was easy observation from the look in my eyes

that I hated every minute of it,

seething through all of my duties until he climaxed.

Most days I could take this kind of treatment.

It was only seldom I couldn't hold it in,

the way Jeffrey disregarded my feelings.

He had me just where he wanted me,

like a pawn piece on a checker's board,

I was his own personal sex slave.

For the remainder of the evening,

I stayed quiet, not sure of what to say.

After an episode like that,

it was a vigorous display of how calculating he could really be.

He required me to clean up his spilled semen

off of his genitals with a warm washcloth

before he retired to his bedroom for a good night's sleep.

Only a monstrous creep would sleep easy at night knowing

what pain he caused others.

I went downstairs and asked Juan,

who was still in the kitchen to pay me for the evening,

telling him that Jeffrey had gone to sleep for the night.

It wasn't an unusual request.

Juan would often have to fix up the girls after the sessions

and sometimes even drive them home.

He went to Jeffrey's desk and underneath was a duffel bag

that was always held with an insurmountable bundle

of crisp, $100 bills.

He took out two for me and handed them over.

I thanked him and said goodnight,

as I was always polite to Juan and his wife Maria.

His eyes were gentle and told me that he was allowed to say,

I understood well.

We all needed to eat and pay bills,

unfortunately, even sometimes,

at our own moral expense.

Putting the keys in the ignition,

I started up the engine and reversed out

as Jeffrey's driveway with promptness.

I didn't want to be there a moment longer

than I had to be.

Not much to look forward to,

getting back to my apartment either,

I needed some time to filter my emotions,

parking my truck in front of the nearby beach,

I took my shoes off,

gradually stepping out of the door into the fog.

I walked down to the edge of the sand

where the water licked my toes.

My life was slipping away from me

and I was really beginning to question

the difference between living and dying.

I was so tired of everything,

my whole existence revolved around being everything to everyone

for getting about being something for myself altogether.

Pretending to be someone else

became an attribute I was better than good at,

probably much of why Jeffrey liked me in the first place.

This time I held back my tears

and only let the anger fester into a deep pit

into my stomach.

My rage was aimed at the very people who abandoned me

to offend for myself in the first place

and accepted this life as normal for me, my parents.

When I got back to my apartment,

I was expecting to have to look after TJ,

but to my surprise,

he had come around good at that night.

He greeted me at the door and asked me how my evening was.

It was all fine, I easily lied.

I never let anyone inside close enough

to see my vulnerabilities.

They were mine alone to battle.

In my head, they were too shameful to talk about anyway.

He wanted to talk about something else.

Sitting down at the dining room table, he began his spiel.

I know you don't think much of me anymore.

How could you?

I'm a junkie who steals and sells drugs for a living,

but I promise that's all going to change now.

Adam is dead because of me,

and the only way I can make up for it to him

is to get away from it all.

I promise that things are going to get better.

It was a convincing talk, but I knew him all too well.

His demon inside, you're in for him to fail,

but who was I the second guest, him out loud?

I could only try to give him hope.

No one's perfect, TJ, at least you're trying now,

and that's all that matters to me.

I'm so proud of you.

I gave him a sincere hug and kissed him

for the first time in a long time.

I love you, he said to me, and return my love back.

We slept in the bed together that night,

and we're officially back together.

Two days later, I was gone again,

beckoned to Santa Fe.

Glaine only told me I was to meet someone there,

not sure of whom that was.

It wasn't my place to ask questions.

As far as I knew, it could be anyone,

and I had no choice but to be compliant to their needs.

It was the middle of the day when I arrived at the airport.

One of the ranch ants came to pick me up

in a big work truck that smelled like dirt and sweat,

but I didn't mind.

That's what I loved about the countryside.

When we arrived at the mansion,

my guest was already there waiting for me.

I couldn't wipe the look off my face

as he turned around from the bookshelf

that he was standing at.

Hello, the same old cheesy grin greeted me once again.

It was his highness, Prince Andrew, and what a sight.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and greeted me,

like an old friend.

I hugged him back, rolling my eyes at the same time,

already dreading what lay in store

over the next couple of days.

My job was to entertain him endlessly,

whether that meant having to bestow him

any of my body during an erotic massage

or simply take him horseback riding.

For the next couple of days, he was to be my only concern,

but he wasn't.

I called in, checking on TJ a few times a day,

not wanting to be a nag,

but just hoping he hadn't had any thoughts

about relapsing.

He was doing great,

even applying for a couple of jobs,

being reassured by him,

made my time away less complicated,

and thankfully,

with the help of my ever-ready Xanax,

I was able to cope with your deal.

The mansion was completely empty,

save a couple of maids,

who also cooked our dinners for us,

and a couple of bodyguards that we hardly even saw at all.

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The time dragged by slowly for me,

as I was counting down the hours

until I flew away again.

Anywhere but here I thought.

It wasn't easy meeting the sexual desires

of these strange men,

the prince being one of them.

He loved my feet

and even licked in between my toes.

Then there was the lack of passion

in the intimacy we shared.

To him I was just another girl,

and to me he was just another job.

Not the right reasons.

To be together,

but I thought in this world,

and to these monsters,

there didn't need to be a reason.

To them it's nothing but a reenactment

of their personal fantasies.

To me, a living nightmare.

Thankfully one of Jeffrey's assistants

from New York called me on my cell phone

in the morning on the second day

to fill me in on my next adventure.

I had a flight booked.

For me to leave that afternoon

to arrive at La Guardia Airport in the evening.

Even though I had to go back

to get another controlling man,

I was still relieved.

At least I was used to the confinement

of Jeffrey's control in some twisted way.

He was more comforting than these strangers he sent me to.

Overlooking the city of New York,

as the plane landed,

felt like I was flying from one cage to another.

And trapped by falling victim

to the predators that learned me into their enclosure.

I didn't know how I would ever get out again.

The deep pit in my stomach began to turn again,

a physical reaction to the anxiety I was plagued with.

Before getting off the plane,

I touched up my makeup

to hide any signs of the frailty

that I was feeling.

All right folks, we're gonna wrap up right here

and to the next episode we're gonna pick up

where we left off.

All of the information that goes with this episode

can be found in the description box.

What's up everyone and welcome to another episode

of the Epstein Chronicles.

In this episode we're picking up where we left off

with the Virginia Roberts memoir,

The Billionaires Playboy Club.

JoJo met me at the arrival terminal

and picked up my luggage for me.

He never said much at all,

nodding to any reciprocating conversation.

I don't think he could really speak

that good of English anyway.

It was better for me as I preferred the quietness

of the moment.

He opened the back door for me

and we headed off for my next prison cell.

When we got to Jeffrey's mansion

on 72nd Street, the place looked empty.

I walked up the staircase to Jeffrey's office

and he wasn't there.

Feeling a bit hungry,

I walked back down to where the kitchen was.

I opened the fridge and found some leftovers

that Adam Jeffrey Chef had cooked.

I loved his cooking.

When it wasn't filled with bean sprouts and tofu,

he used to make the best pizza upon request

or whenever he was cooking seafood,

which he knew I hated.

He had an honest appeal about him

and never even took notice

when on many occasions us girls would be prancing around

topless, sometimes even start naked

around the pool or the beach.

He would have to serve us our meals

and would do it with such a casual professionalism

never making anyone uneasy at any occasion

and she's talking about Adam Perry Lang

right there, folks, friends with Jimmy Kimmel

and somebody that's been on the Joe Rogan show before.

Halfway through my meal, the kitchen doors swung open

and incoming was Jeffrey and Golan.

Choking down my bite of food,

I got up from my seat

and I kissed them both on the cheeks.

Hi guys, how are you?

I greeted them and Golan answered for them both.

Good, good, sit down and finish your meal.

Don't let us interrupt you.

I hated eating alone in front of people,

chewing food and maintaining a conversation

at the same time didn't give off the best look.

I was just finishing anyways.

Can I get you guys anything maybe a tear something?

Always playing my part, another reason

to keep me around, I guess.

I went beyond the call of duty

and after the last period with them,

I had been reminded of my place.

Yes, I'll take one, Golan stated.

Jeffrey, how about you?

Anything I can get for you?

I asked again and he answered no thanks.

We just ate and I'm still full

and they sat down together on the stools at the kitchen bench.

I got out the shiny red kettle from the cupboard

knowing my way all too well around the kitchen

and put it over the hot stove plate.

Turning around to face them,

I thought they were acting peculiar

so Golan started the conversation.

How was the ranch with the prince?

It was a natural reaction for me to blush

knowing exactly what she was referring to.

Keeping busy preparing the cup of tea

and avoiding eye contact with both of them,

I started to unpack the counter

where I had been eating.

I think he had a really good time.

He seemed relaxed during the trip

and when we said goodbye to each other, he gave me a kiss.

I went on to tell them what we did together.

I took him horseback riding,

nowhere too far just around the property.

We went swimming in the pool

and of course I gave him plenty of massages.

He had a massage at least couple times a day,

really seeming to enjoy his time there.

It's what they wanted to hear,

not the truth of how disgusting I had felt

over the whole thing

but they already knew the truth anyways.

It's what they had trained me for in the first place.

Like two proud parents,

they both looked over at me with such content.

Good, you really did well.

Jeffrey complimented me,

turning around the boiling kettle.

I finished Golan's tea for her

and the conversation led on to other subjects.

We all ventured up to Jeffrey's office

and out came the infamous duffel bag

that went wherever he did.

I was given close to a thousand dollars

from my time in Santa Fe,

more than what I thought anybody in my young age

could make for a couple of days work.

It was fulfilling the obscene vulgar needs

of the so-called privilege that earned me so much.

I spent the next few days in New York

venturing out to do some shopping therapy.

I love the eccentric parts of the city.

Every street was different

but the same energetic vibe filled all of them,

animated with all different walks of life,

hanging out at coffee shops,

reading the newspaper or a good book

was a favorite pastime while in the Big Apple.

Being close enough to get back to Jeffrey

for what he needed,

but also far enough to get away from it all.

Most of the days I slipped by without being missed

and I made my way back to Jeffries.

Making one last pit stop,

I walked into an old bookshop to browse

at their assortment of old titles.

I wasn't in any hurry so I took my time.

Reading the backs of interesting looking books,

I bumped into a girl looking down the same aisle

I was down, sorry I'm so clumsy,

she was apologizing for my mistake.

No, no, it was my fault.

I wasn't looking at where I was going,

I get so wrapped up with my nose and a book

and trip over my own feet if I'm not careful enough.

We were both giggling.

Now and I further introduce myself to her,

her name was Valerie or Vicki or something like that.

Anyway, she was a student at school

for hairdressing nearby.

Chatting away both young and similar interests

in each other's choices of reading,

we found it easy to speak to one another.

She wasn't from around here,

only being in the city for the last two months,

her parents hated her being here,

but were also supportive in her big decision to move

from the countryside and hopes of accomplishing her own dreams.

Aside from not having her near them,

they just wanted her to be happy and supported

in her big decision to move to the city,

helping her pay some of the way.

She was a pretty girl with cherry red hair

and soft white skin.

Her long legs were emphasized

by the short flowery dress

that complimented her hourglass figure.

She would definitely fit the pro quo for going down

and wanted Jeffrey's little black books.

Only imagining the look on his face upon meeting her,

I could already see his lie grin spread from ear to ear,

knowing exactly what he would do with her

and the very thought of him

tarnishing a sweet country girl,

such as her just couldn't be done.

It was the beginning of a turning point in my life.

That started with realizing I had a choice at hand

and the effect I could have on one person alone.

I must be off, but it was really nice meeting you,

being here a good night and paying for my books,

I turned around with one last glance over my shoulder

and said good luck in the city,

leaving the bookshop was a small step

in a growing abundance of larger strides to come.

Turning the corner onto 72nd Street,

I had an undeniable feeling in the pit of my stomach again,

but this time it wasn't the familiar hurl of anxiety

I was used to after I had done something wrong

that I had regretted.

It was a new feeling of pride and inner strength.

I quite liked it a lot.

I held my head high and smiled on the inside

when Jeffrey asked me how my day was

and what I got up to not mentioning

that I had let one girl slip on by.

The icy winter winds faded away,

making way for the approaching sunny days

that blossomed the colorful shades of spring.

This was my favorite time of year.

Making the most use of his island,

we spent countless days of the increasingly hot days there.

A constant array of visiting guests

and plentiful young women to flock around

keeping the men retained was a typical lazy afternoon

on little St. Jeff's.

We ate, drank and played under the blue blanket

of cloud the skies.

To many this lifestyle could seem idyllic

unless you were like me,

the one on the other side of the fence

where the grass wasn't so green

fortunately for me and in some ways not,

I was mostly expected to attend only Jeffries

insurmountable sexual desires,

whereas the other girls who came one day

and went the next were promised to a multitude

of open doors just for their amigur

participation in sexual acts with random men.

Only to be disappointed when they realized

there was nothing more than a single night out

for these geriatric senior citizens

who most likely do or would die from Alzheimer's

and they would sooner forget their entire experience

let alone their first name.

Surrounded by those in our world,

who many looked up to but not seeing them

from where I was standing,

I didn't have the highest of standards in humanity

then I met Al Gore, his lovely wife

during one of those many weekends away in the Caribbean.

I was blown away by the amount of attention,

Al doted on his wife, it was sweet to watch.

They sat next to each other at the dinner table

gazing into one another's eyes,

having an intimate conversation between them.

Among the many guests that visited that night

and many of them young beautiful women,

not once did Al's eyes stray elsewhere.

To them, they were the only ones there.

He was up for a presidential election that year

and he definitely had my vote.

Anyone that could show that much devotion

and passion towards his loved ones

could have the same devotion towards running a country

or at least I thought so.

He only left his wife's side to have a walk down the beach

with the host of the weekend, Jeffrey.

The weather was still warm in the evening

when I decided to break away from the idle chat

around the table and take a stroll too.

Not wanting to interrupt the conversation

between Jeffrey and Al,

I walked in the opposite direction,

plucking the washed up seashells

and bedded in the sand along the way.

I enjoyed the serenity and the solitude of the island,

so many nooks and crannies to get lost in,

I could imagine that I actually disappeared

from the entire world for a moment.

By the time that I came back to the main house,

majority of the small crowd had been long gone,

retired to their cabanas.

Even Jeffrey had gone off to bed,

but trust party animal, Glean,

was still up entertaining the remaining guests

left at the table,

telling her wild stories of people in places she has embarked on,

trying not to make eye contact as I walked past them,

on my way back to the cabana carrying my seashells

inside my curled up blouse.

I wasn't up for any more pointless talking tonight.

Emptying out my seashells into a plastic bag,

I went over my new treasure one by one,

I love collecting odd things, shells being one of my favorites.

Glean and I shared,

that interest together,

we would enjoy walkabouts around the island,

searching for lost pieces of the remnants

that pirates had left behind centuries ago.

It was mostly broken plates or smashed glass

from bottles of ale and even occasionally getting lucky,

and finding some old coins here and there.

It wasn't easy though,

both loving a challenge, it was perfect for us,

and during many scratches from the bushes,

we would be searching through,

and then sore arms from digging all day,

but it was worth it in the end.

After nearly two years of collecting items and saving them,

we made Jeffrey a mosaic table.

Out of the remaining pieces,

left from the era of the pirates day.

Upon completing it,

we were both astounded in our creation,

it was such an item of rarity,

and an interesting piece of work.

When we presented it to Jeffrey,

he was even impressed,

not only in our amazing finds,

but what we did with them.

The table became an important work of art

that Jeffrey showed off inside the main house,

lounge room,

sparking much intrigue and table conversation

by many of the visiting guests to his island.

All right, we're gonna wrap up right here,

and in the next episode,

we're gonna pick up where we left off.

All of the information that goes with this episode

can be found in the description box.

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