Editor's note: this submission contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sexual situations.
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AUTHOR'S WARNING:
This is not a feel-good story of gay love and romance. No, it is a cautionary tale of the approximately 1.6 -- 2.8 million teenagers who runaway from home every year and of what can and often happens to the naive and unsuspecting. White slavery is real. There are no hard statistics of how many young people are snatched off the streets and sold into slavery each year because to America's shame, it is a topic ignored by the mainstream media.
Wrong Place-Wrong Time
I was mad. I rode a bus 900-miles to work at a resort in the Everglades and when I got there they said there wasn't a job for me. In fact, they'd never even heard of me.
"But Lori Mann hired me over the phone -- she promised me a job -- we had a verbal agreement!" I argued.
"I'm sorry, sir, she left the company two-weeks ago and we can't find any paperwork for you," she said.
I hate it when a girl my age calls me 'sir.'
"But we had an oral contract!" I said a bit louder.
"I'm sorry, sir, there's nothing I can do," she said.
She didn't look or act sorry. "Well, okay, if the job she promised me isn't available, I'll take anything...I'll even wash dishes or be a janitor if I have to!"
She stared at me like I was a moron. "Sir, ALL of our positions have been filled -- we don't have ANY openings right now!"
I was dumbfounded. I'm usually quick on my feet but I couldn't think of a single thing to say except, "It's not right -- she promised me a job -- SHE PROMISED!"
The idiot girl cheerfully replied, "I don't know what to tell you, sir...maybe if you check back in three-four weeks we might have something for you!"
"But----"
"The shuttle to Miami leaves in half-an-hour!" she said and left me standing there alone.
I was numb on the ride back to the city. It wasn't until I was standing on a street corner outside the bus depot that I woke from the unfolding nightmare. My head was dizzy and spinning.
How could this happen? They promised me a job - THEY PROMISED!! Now I have no work -- no car - I'm tired -- I'm hungry - and worst of all, I'm almost out of money. What the hell do I do now?
***
"Hey kid, you can't sell boy scout cookies in here!" the ugly old bartender called out as soon as I walked into the shabby, dimly lit bar.
Huh? Boy scout cookies? What's that old fool talking about?
"You must not be from around here, kid, you gotta be twenty-one to drink in Florida!" he gruffly said to me.
"I AM twenty-one!" I protested.
I set down my suitcase, pulled out my wallet and showed him my drivers license.
"This a fake id kid?" he asked suspiciously.
Good God, another moron! Do they put something in the water down here?
"No, it's real!" I said to him.
"Minnesota, huh? You're a lucky kid, you don't look a day over sixteen!" he said.
Yep, he's not only ugly but simple-minded, too! What's so 'lucky' about getting mistaken for a little kid everywhere I go? Maybe the heat and humidity in Florida turns peoples brains into mush!
There were no other customers so I hopped up on the bar stool closest to the door.
"Coors Light," I said to the man.
He grunted as he bent over the cooler and brought out a beer, opened it and placed it in front of me.
"What's a Minnesota boy doing all the way down here?" he casually asked me. "You don't like blizzards and eighty-below-zero anymore? Hahahaha...."
I took a long drink of beer -- damn, it tasted good! My nerves were on edge but after guzzling the beer in four swallows I was able to breathe easier and I felt the tension in my body begin to go away.
"No, I was supposed to work in the Everglades, but when I got there they had no record of me...can you believe that?" I said.
The old man, who at first looked annoyed I had come into his bar suddenly took an interest in me.
"Okay, so you didn't get the job," he said. "Why on earth would you come to this part of Miami? You seem like a smart enough kid to see this ain't exactly the nicest or safest area of the city?"
"This is where they dropped me off...the bus depot is next door, right?" I asked.
"Ohhhhh, you don't have a car, huh? Yeah, that makes it rough!" he said.
I drained the beer and was going to leave but the old man quickly opened another one and set it in front of me.
"So you got friends in town, kid?" he asked.
I lifted the beer bottle to my mouth but before I took a drink, I answered, "No...no, I don't know anyone here."
He raised his eyebrows and said, "No one? You don't know ANYONE here?"
Is this idiot deaf too? "No, I don't know ANYONE here."
"Well, I'm sure you called your folks or a friend or two and told them the bad news - they all know you're going to take a bus home, right?" he asked.
What is it with this guy? "No, I haven't spoken with anyone...it's kinda embarrassing..." I sheepishly said. "They didn't think I had the nerve to come all the way down here for work -- some of 'em even thought I was lying about the job...damn, now what do I tell 'em?"
I had half a beer left but he popped open another one and set it in front of me.
"Uhhh, thanks, but I better go check the bus schedule," I said to him.
"Have you eaten, boy?" he asked.
"No...no, I am kinda hungry but I gotta be careful with my money...I'll get something out of the vending machines in the bus depot."
"Nonsense, I'll fix you a burger -- it's on the house -- the beer too - I feel sorry for you, kid, it's the least I can do!" he said.
I still had an almost full beer but he opened another one and set it in front of me then turned and walked toward the kitchen at the far end of the bar.
"Thanks, mister!" I called out to him. "It's real nice of you to do this for me!"
He waved, smiled then I heard him softly laughing. "Well, kid, maybe you can do something for me later on...relax and drink your beer while I make you some food!"
