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Blind This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.


   Rolling out of bed seemed easy. I woke with a hugesmile on my face for the first time in months, and I wasn't going to let anyoneruin my good mood - or so I thought.

On that summer day, the sun wasshining, birds were singing, and the music was blasting as I drove to work. Ieven got there on time and found first-class parking right next to the entranceto the bar.

As the day progressed, so did my good mood. Nothing botheredme. I disregarded complaints from rude customers, my coworkers' antics didn'tannoy me, and I completed my manager's orders. I felt as if I were walking onair, so light and free, and totally satisfied.

Around 6 p.m. my managerasked if I wanted to have the honor of being the "Jell-O Shot Girl" forthe night. I'd never had this opportunity, and knew I could make a nice amount ofmoney. I accepted.

How hard could it be? I wondered.

Without anymore thought, I started to prepare shots for the crowd. When I finished, mymanager said, "Mags, go home and change. Put on a cute tank top and shortsand, believe me, you'll do great!" I followed his instructions, makingmyself Jell-O Shot presentable. When I came back, the parking lot was full. Noteven an hour before it had been empty, and now people were standing in line toget in.

These would be my hours of fame. My good mood was still with meas I started my special assignment. I filled my tray with shots, put a can ofwhipped cream in the middle, and made my way through the crowd. People werebuying hundreds of shots and screaming things like: "Hey, Jell-O Girl, overhere!" "Honey, don't forget about us!" and "How much do youwant for that can of whipped cream?"

My good mood starteddisappearing as the night went on. The customers were beyond rude. Besideshearing nasty remarks, I was touched by strange men in places I did not want tobe touched. I was asked out on dates by men in their fifties who wore weddingrings and whistled at me. And all that doesn't compare to what happened later.

The men had absolutely no respect; more than ten were escorted outafter they stole the can of whipped cream from my tray and sprayed me and anyoneelse in sight. That night I swore I would never be Jell-O Shot Girl again. It wasone of the worst experiences that ever happened to me. I felt ashamed anddegraded. My good mood was completely gone, and so was mypatience.

Rolling out of bed seemed easy; I woke up with a smile, but thatevening, my outlook on life was totally changed. I had never seen this kind ofbehavior before. I'd heard about it, but never believed it could be true. No,until that night I was blind, because I had never seen the truth of alcohol.




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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