‘What The Hell Was I Thinking?!!’ - Confessions of the World’s Most Controversial Sex Symbol Read Online Free PDF

Brooklyn Friends grade school class (top row, far left); bottom: Jasmin with her 9th Grade Class (plaid shirt, 3rd right, 2nd row from top).
    Jasmin as a Metal Head Teen.
Part ii

The Toys!! The Toys!!! My Painful Descent Into Hell…
    While I was still in college, I met the aforementioned asshole, Dick, who worked in a store called It’s Only Rock n’ Roll in the Village (he was the first of many dysfunctional relationships) which was like a record/ collectibles store.The owners were Mark and Debbie Zacharin, and they seemed pretty cool. I would pass by there every day on my way to and from my job at the Jersey Journal in Jersey City, New Jersey, where I took classified ads over the phone. I was 18 at this point and one day I went into the store and we actually started talking more personally, beyond just hello and ‘How are you?’ kind of stuff. For whatever reason, I thought he was cute. He had black, curly (poofy,) long hair, and a LONG, railthin nose, like a Pelican or a coke-addict’s (although I didn’t know one way or the other if he did that shit at the time.) He wasn’t a bad boy, but thought he was. His mother was deaf, and was a Jehovah’s Witness, and he lived with her in Cliffside Park, New Jersey. Anyway, Dick worked directly for Mark in various capacities, one being he was driving errands for him for Mark’s side business, which was dealing marijuana. That was a back-of-the-store operation, so Dick did a mix of things — legal and otherwise — for Mark. Anyway, I would go into that store every day after work because I was hanging out in the Village a lot at that point — it was a hip, happening place, where Heavy Metal was king. It was maybe the closest thing you would have found at the time to the Sunset Strip in L.A. but nowhere near as exclusively themed around hair metal. Still, for New York, it was a very cool place to hang out.
Once Dick started talking to me and gave me his number, I saw the (201) area code, and should have seen that as my first red flag, because
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    New York people try not to mix with Bridge and Tunnel people (i.e. those from New Jersey and Long Island.) So one day, he asked me if I wanted to go out to lunch and ‘hang out,’ so he had a pretty cool Pontiac Firebird at the time, so I thought that was cool enough to hang out for a day, and the dick ALMOST ended up standing me up. He claimed he’d gotten home late from work, and after waiting on him for about an hour, I was ready to leave the store when he called, and begged me to wait for him. Having no self-esteem at that point in my life because of my inexperience with men, I — like a jackass — agreed to wait some more for him. Finally, when he showed up another hour later, he showed up with a flower and then we went to some Howard Johnson’s-type shithole to eat. So that was our first date. So we started hanging out after that, and I think on our second date, basically went from the store straight back to Fort Lee, New Jersey to his friend’s house, had sex, and that was it. He wasn’t my first sexual experience, but only the second guy I had been involved with physically up to that point. Anyway, he seemed more into hanging out with his friends at that point than anything else and this became a running theme in our relationship in time. His friends were scum bags, and basically after we’d finished having sex that day, he drove me almost immediately back to Manhattan and left me there feeling like total shit about myself.
    Our next date was basically the same routine — I’d meet him late at night after work or somewhere late on a Saturday, but I put up with it because I thought he was the best I could do for myself at that time. There really wasn’t ever much for us to do, we usually went back to New Jersey, hung out, had sex and listened to records. It was really boring, and though I hadn’t done an extensive amount of dating up to that point, the guys I had dated