At the club, Goldie kept her distance from the other strippers. She didn’t want to befriend anyone. They were strangers to her, as she was to them. It was all about money, the Benjamin’s. She was there just to pay her rent and support her habit. After that, she went her way and they went theirs. What she did outside the club was nobody’s business.

As the weeks went by, Goldie continued to strip. As her drug habit grew, she consumed more and more of a wide variety of drugs. They ranged from Ecstasy, Valiums, to mescaline tabs. Venturing out into her neighborhood, Goldie came in contact with some of the local junkies. They turned her on to all the drug spots in the area. When she wasn’t stripping at the club, she was barracaded in her room doing drugs, getting as high as she could. This only amplified her state of depression. Alone in her room, she would replay the tragic events that surrounded her life. Over and over again she reflected, as if this were her favorite TV show. To Goldie, she was cursed, cursed by Murphy’s Law, which stated, “Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.” Her horrifying thoughts were the only company she kept.

During this time, she began to experience terrible bouts of homesickness. She wondered what Tender was doing. What was taking them so long to send for her? She decided to reach out and call her. She rang the phone repeatedly, but got no reply. Tender had never set up her answering service, so she couldn’t even leave a message. That’s when she tried to call the house.

“… The number you have dialed, two-one-five-five-five-fivefour-three-seven-six, has been changed to an unlisted number. No further information is available,” the automated voice said.

Goldie was crushed. She felt as if the world had abandoned her. Where were her friends during her time of need? She questioned, “Why did they change the number all of a sudden? Did they forget about me?”

Immediately after that, she phoned Kat. This was the last person in the world she wanted to talk to. But she really didn’t have much of a choice. Who else could she call?

“Hello?” Kat spoke into the receiver. “Who dis?”

“It’s me, Goldie,” she said meekly. “I been tryin’ ta get in contact with y’all. Who changed da number?”

“Listen,” Kat barked. “don’t be callin’ here trippin’ on me ’bout my muthafuckin’ phone … You musta lost ya damn mind! Anyway, Tender had da phone number changed. Talk ta her ’bout dat …”

“She did?” Goldie asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, she did!” Kat insisted.

“Don’t believe dat. She wouldn’t do dat ta me. Dat’s my girl …”