The Irony

When I was nine years old, I had a little brother born. My step-father married my mother with three little girls, and then had a child of his own. The dynamics of our family changed.

That summer, we moved back to Florida -- my mother's home. We moved a couple of times out of state but always went back to Florida. Once we got settled in, I started spending lots of time with our family friends. They were a married couple with daughters older than me. So, it seemed to make sense I guess.

But, oh no. This would end up being my pedophile's home. We spent lots of time together; he was my buddy. We even shot some of his guns in his back yard. He was actually a real member of Hell's Angels as well.

Anyway, I spent lots of time at his house just hanging out with him, his wife, and kids. His daughters were four and six years older than me. I would hang out with the fourteen year old, but the oldest one was always working.

After I joined the U.S. Air Force at the age of nineteen, I went home one year on leave to visit. My dad asked me to meet him at a particular bar one evening. I ended up making some friends with a group of guys around my age. We were playing darts, when a really good looking older man walked in the bar.

We made eye contact and continued to for some time. Finally, he asked me to join him and his group of friends to go to another drinking establishment. This restaurant was very quiet and he ordered whatever I wanted to drink. He was truly a gentleman.

This was not the most interesting part of this story. The really surprising part for me was the bartender at the first bar, a biker bar. She was my pedophile's younger daughter.