Rat Pack Party Girl: From Prostitute to Women’s Advocate

by McCormick, Jane

  I knew that the guys never wanted to wear rubbers so the girls needed to clean themselves thoroughly before going to the next truck. Unless they gave them a blow job, then they’d come back and gargle with mouth wash. It made me sick to my stomach knowing what they were going through, and I knew that their pimps were telling them what to do. I thought, “How low-class their pimps must be to let them turn tricks in a truck stop.”

  This would go on until early morning as the truckers arrived and left the stop. That morning I returned the Winnebago and gave them their money. They all gave me a stake of their share and I went back to the trailer and crawled into bed with Jean.

  The next day one of the gals from the Winnebago asked me meet her down at the bar. She told me she had a sucker on the line and she and another girl were going to trick him. She wanted to know if I could drive them and I agreed, thinking I could make some more money.

  That evening I drove Roxy’s car with another girl to a fancy hotel and we had a few drinks with Joe, who was a fifty-something, bald-headed, heavyset man with a charming personality. I thought he seemed like a lot of fun and thought he wanted to have an orgy.

  Feeling silly, we left the bar and I drove the car while the girls played with Joe in the back seat. We were all busy talking and then I looked into the rear view mirror and saw Joe’s head bobbing and his eyes rolling. When he started mumbling his words, I pulled off to a side road. After stopping the car I turned to see that Joe’s head had fallen to his chest and he was passed out.

  At first I thought he couldn’t hold his liquor but Roxy said he couldn’t hold the “Mickey” she slipped in his drink. It was a drug-laced drink that was given to him in order to incapacitate him.

  I didn’t know anything about Mickey-laced drinks and Joe was completely out of it. Suddenly, I felt scared for his life and asked, “Where’s the hospital from here?”

  Roxy said, “We’re not going to no damn hospital. We’re going to drop this sucker out here and take his money. This guy’s a married man from out of town and he won’t want his wife to know what he’s doing, and if he says anything to the cops, he’ll get in serious trouble.”

  They opened the back door and pulled him out onto the side of the road. They left him on the ground, took his wallet and they got back into the car and we drove away.

  I’d never seen anything like it before. I’d never seen anybody on a “Mickey” and didn’t know what the drug would do. I was so concerned for the man’s life. I didn’t want to see the man get hurt or killed. As she drove away I looked back to see him lying on the ground, helpless.

  Then Roxy said, “Don’t worry Jane, he’ll be okay. The ‘Mickey’ I gave him will wear off in twenty minutes and he’ll be able to flag down a car right up here next to the highway.”

  The gals drove me back to my trailer and gave me two hundred dollars. I couldn’t believe how hard these girls were. I’ve never known anyone like that and I told Jean that we needed to get away from this place as soon as we could.

  I’ve seen and done more than these girls ever thought of doing as a prostitute but leaving a man helpless on a dark dirt road was wrong! I hated what they did. These girls were truly hardened from the life they were living.

  The next day the car was ready and we left Cocke County. I was real emotional after that and I was getting tired of having to do all the dirty work while Jean did nothing. My mind was so messed up from the pills, booze and bullshit. I thought, “Here I am with a woman while turning tricks with men who have no idea that I’m gay and miserable.”

  It was killing me that she thought it was okay. Like Johnny, I thought I loved her and believed that I had to take care of her. Then after seeing the cheap tricks in the truck stop and what they did to that guy, I knew that I had to go back to Vegas where I could make big money again with hopes of saving enough of it to get out of the business for good.

  Before leaving the Cocke County area, I called Carol’s sister and she told me that Carol and Johnny were now living together in my airstream trailer in North Carolina. I was shocked. But she gave me the address and we drove to see them.

  Chapter 27

  Building My New Life

  When we arrived at the campground, I couldn’t believe that Carol had ended up with Johnny.

  “Oh I see you’re a couple now. How did that happen?” I said.

  Johnny said, “I could never pass up on a pretty woman like Carol.”

  Carol is nearly six feet tall, never wore much makeup and was very innocent and sweet. She went to church every Sunday and grew up within a close-knit family. The only reason she was with Johnny is because I introduced her and then Curly, her gay ex-husband, left her. The three of them had seen me many times with Frank and the guys at the Sands.

  I never would have thought that he could con her into prostitution. But I could understand that she probably didn’t make much money working for See’s Candy compared to what one could make turning a trick, then seeing the country and having beautiful things. There is no comparison.

  We sat down outside the trailer and Johnny went inside and made us a cocktail.

  I said, “Carol let’s go for a little walk, I’d like to talk to you for a second.”

  As we walked I told Carol, “I thought you knew how he treated me. He beat me. He almost killed me. I’m just blown away that you’re with him Carol. You’re my best friend in the whole world and you’re so sweet and naïve. You’ve never been around this type of man. He’s a fuckin’ pimp!”

  “Yeah, he’s got me working in one of the joints,” she told me.

  I started to cry and said, “Carol I can’t believe this has happened to you.”

  “It’s okay Janie, don’t cry. I’ll be okay!” Carol said.

  Shocked and devastated I said, “I hope you don’t get beat up and shot at, like he did to me.”

  Carol must have been on drugs because she didn’t seem to be listening to me so I grabbed her by the arms and shook her saying, “Johnny is a bad, evil man and you need to get away from him now!”

  “I can’t do that Jane! You know I can’t or he could kill us all right now!” she said.

  “You know Carol, he’s just conning you to get back at me and he has succeeded in doing that by turning you on to this disgusting business.”

  Years later she stood up for herself and left him to become a registered nurse. But strong as she was she ended up taking him back. They got married and she took care of him until he died and was buried in the same cemetery where Frank is buried.

  In 2002 I went to Palm Springs to visit, and Carol took me out to see Frank’s resting place. I walked to it and stood over his grave site, spread eagle and said, “Here it 'tis, here it ‘tis.” Carol and I laughed, but I knew he’d be wishin’ he was alive to get some of that!

  She told me that people came daily to visit his grave, some leaving a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, others leaving flowers. On the day that I visited, two young men were having beers near their car and they were blasting Frank’s songs into the air.

  Jean and I left North Carolina the next morning. It took us two days to get across county to Las Vegas. I drove the whole way and was glad to get off the road. Jean and I were so happy to be there. We rented a motel room for a week and I went out on the town seeing my old guys. That was so much fun. Everyone was so happy to see me. I ran over to my doctor and got my pills filled and I was off and running again.

  The only thing different was I was here with a woman and not with a scum-of-the-earth pimp. How weird that felt. I was afraid someone would find out that I was living with a woman and I wouldn’t get any more referrals to the high rollers because queer was the worst thing to be in those days. Now I was breaking all the rules. Who knows, they might have thrown me out of town.

  Jean couldn’t get a job so everything was on my shoulders again. Besides, who’s going to hire a dyke anyway? Especially in Vegas!

  But I had a will to survive.

  One night I went to the Sand
s hotel and it was like old home week. I was talking to Bucky Harris and he said, “You look beautiful and we missed having a good woman around.”

  So I went to the cocktail lounge and sat down at a table and had a drink. Soon a short stocky man sat down at the table next to me. We ended up talking to each other. He looked familiar but I didn’t know who he was until he introduced himself as Danny DeVito. We started talking and had a couple of drinks when he said, “Let’s go see if you can bring me any luck at the tables?”

  He had me laughing so hard at all his funny jokes. We hit a round of gambling casinos and when we returned to the Sands he said, to my surprise, he didn’t need any of my sexy body and that he had to return to L.A. So I took my winnings and went back to Jean. I’ll always remember what a fun gentleman he was.

  After turning tricks for only a week, I was able to rent a ranch home with a fenced-in back yard.

  I started dolling-up and going back out on the Strip. The pit bosses, bartenders and casino owners were happy to see me again and I picked up right where I’d left off eight months ago.

  I needed to go back and do what I knew best and make some quick cash. However, my feelings had changed. I liked being with Jean but turning a trick was making me feel sick to my stomach.

  As the year went by, my sex life with tricks began to dwindle. I’d become wise. After accompanying a trick to a dinner show and gambling, I’d tell them that I felt sick when they wanted to go upstairs for sex. The john always understood. He’d tell me to keep my winnings and that he’d call me next time he came to Vegas.

  I’d gotten to a point where all I wanted to do was get the money, pick up Jean and go to the gay bars where I felt comfortable. Everyone knew me there and I could have male friends who didn’t want to take me to bed. However, Jean started drinking a lot and was enjoying my healthy income. The only good thing was that she was very compassionate about my emotional feelings as I separated myself from prostitution, but that wasn’t paying the bills.

  With time passing, another problem arose. With the consequence of me having headaches with my johns, I got fewer phone calls from the pit bosses and their high rollers.

  Then Jean started talking about Chicago and that she’d be able to get a job there. That couldn’t have made me happier, so we packed up the car and left Vegas for good!

  The drive to Chicago was fun and carefree as we stopped at the gay bars along the way. When we arrived in Chicago I rented a month-to-month apartment. Jean had several job interviews but none of them turned out so I started to turn tricks again with some of the mob guys I knew from Vegas. After a couple of weeks I got so sick of it all. I didn’t want to turn tricks anymore and Jean did nothing but drink. Finally, Jean pushed me to my limit after she talked crazy and lost her temper and violently shoved me down a flight of stairs at the apartment. With bruises on my body I told her to get out! The next day without a fuss she left and I was on my own again. I had made enough money to survive for a couple of months and I started to look for real work.

  I kept going to the bar and I met a cute girl called Sue. She was very small built, had brunette hair, blue eyes and a great smile. She was a very quiet girl but I would inspire her to laugh out loud and have a blast with me. She had a full time job as a postal worker and made good money. We got along instantly and she asked me to move in with her.

  After moving in with Sue, I applied for a job at ITT Telecommunications. They hired me as an assembler and I worked my way to becoming a circuit board quality controller. I learned about transformers, transistors and ended up making fifteen dollars per hour. Together we made a comfortable living and I was very happy.

  Sue and I had built a strong friendship with other gay couples in the community and were accepted by her loving family. They all made me feel welcome and I was happy for a change.

  No man had made me feel secure. They usually demanded something from me that was obsessive and demeaning to me. I had to fake orgasms with all those men for all those years. It all finally stopped when I got with Sue. Now I never get beaten or abused. I was so happy to tell everyone that my life had changed. And I had wonderful sex with all the women in my life - just wonderful.

  When my daughter’s father died we had Roberta come and live with us and Sue would sit in the kitchen and help her with her homework. She loved Sue very much. And so did I. But Roberta began to act out at school and she met a young man and got married at eighteen. I couldn’t stop her, so I wished them the best.

  During that time Cindy also got married in Orange County and had two children by the time she was nineteen. She then moved to Vegas and lived near her father. I talked to her nearly every day.

  Chapter 28

  Silicone

  Years later, in 1978, I noticed some bumps forming on my breasts. Red sores had formed and they were oozing with white pus. The decision I had made years ago to get silicone injections was coming back to haunt me. I immediately called a plastic surgeon and he told me to come to his office right away.

  The doctor gave me a thorough examination and he told me that silicone was seeping through my breasts. He explained that it was illegal to inject anyone with raw silicone and it could be unpredictable and hazardous to my health. A number of showgirls in Las Vegas had died of these injections because the silicone traveled to their brains and hearts. Also, he learned that the doctor who had performed this procedure had fled to another country to avoid being prosecuted. My doctor told me he would have to remove as much of it as possible from my breasts immediately before it spread any further.

  I was in surgery the next day and for seven hours the surgeon scooped out as much of the raw silicone as he could, and then he implanted two silicone bags filled with liquid silicone and sewed me up.

  Later that afternoon, I remember the nurses changing my dressings and when I looked down at my breasts I thought they looked great. I was very happy with them. Soon after, the doctor came in and he told me I was one of the lucky ones to have survived this long. He told me that some of the raw silicone is still traveling in my body and that it could, at any time, get into my blood stream and block an artery and kill me.

  Two days later the nurses came to change my dressings and when I looked down at my breasts I could see they were red, black and swollen. The nurse ran out of the room and I started to cry, not believing what I was seeing. Minutes later the doctor came in and in the blink of an eye, the nurse returned with an emergency surgery release form.

  “What happened? I asked.

  “Honey, it’s called gangrene. Gangrene has set in overnight. We have to cut that gangrene out of you or it will kill you,” the nurse said seriously.

  Having worked in hospitals before, I knew that I could die from this, so I spared all questions and immediately signed the document and was rushed into the operating room.

  I woke up two days later and the first thing I did was to look at my chest. It was flat. My whole upper chest was bandaged all the way around. Drainage tubes came from beneath the wrapping, leading to a container attached to my bed. I knew something was wrong. Three of my friends were at my bedside trying to cheer me up but they wouldn’t tell me what happened to me. So I insisted that they leave the room because I wanted to see my chest.

  As soon as they were gone I took the bandage off myself and the sight of my chest scared me to death and sickened me. I screamed, “No. No. No God! No!”

  Seeing my butchered breasts was another one of my worst nightmares. I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. I wondered if I was dead or alive. I screamed and screamed for the doctor. I had a lot of questions and I wanted the answers now!

  The nurse tried to reassure me that everything was fine. I cried and cried for hours, until the doctor came. He humbly sat on my bed and said he had to cut them off right away because my life was in danger.

  “Janie, I’m so sorry. We tried our best, but the gangrene had set in too deep,” the doctor said, “I did try to leave you some cleavage, and some day you could have bre
asts again with the improvements they’re making in plastic surgery.”

  “That’s great,” I mumbled as tears poured down my face.

  “The only thing I can tell you is that when you remove raw silicone from a breast and immediately replace it with a silicone implant, the skin tissue becomes traumatized and the body rejects the foreign material and turns to gangrene. They had no idea this was going to happen. I’m just real sorry,” he said as his eyes watered.

  I couldn’t help but feel this was one of the worst things that could have ever happened to me. I’d never be the same. I never should have let that son-of-a-bitch doctor do that to me! My attitude about myself as a woman was destroyed. The importance of my stature was ruined. I’d never look or feel like a sexy woman again. I was in shock and I hysterically cried out of control.

  The doctor sat on my bed and he tried to calm me down. “At least you’re still alive. I’m sorry you had to fall into the hands of false promise.”

  No matter how you look at it, silicone is bad. For me the brutal truth was real. I was disfigured forever, and to this day I still have to physically and mentally deal with the devastation. I am one of the living pioneers of raw silicone injections and my breasts are the ultimate example of the dangers of silicone breast implants.

  Hundreds of women who worked in Vegas had the same injections, and years later many of them lost more than their breasts. They lost their lives because they wanted to make money and look attractive.

  Today, silicone still floats within my body. There is no way of finding where the silicone is. I have to live with the fact that it could kill me anytime if it enters my blood steam and blocks an artery to my heart or lungs. Silicone is no longer available in the U.S. but women are still going abroad for silicone bag implants that can leak, break and kill them. No matter what the doctors say, silicone is bad for you!

  Women need to listen to me! It can kill you!