Her slimy gloved finger slid up my ass to the second knuckle, making me wince."Sphincter tone is good," she called out to the scribe once her finger w...as clear. She looked at it. "No obvious blood."That was certainly nice to know, I thought. My worst nightmare had come true. I was on the wrong end of procedures I'd performed a thousand times on others. It was certainly an education in itself. They shot x-rays of my chest and, alarmed at my low blood pressure, replaced one of the saline IV bags. Her dad called her back a few hours later. ‘He’s a pilot, honey. Flew F14s in the med and the gulf war. He’s still in the reserves in Virginia—not far from where we used to live and where you did a lot of growing up. It looks like he’s inactive reserve right now. He’s currently listed as a Major, USMC reserve. He was highly decorated—to include a Navy Cross. He shot down five Migs in his career—makes him an ace.’ Her dad told her, providing further fodder to the mystery who was Frank Williams.. ”“Really?” You respond. “That’s great. I guess there are going to be lots of industry people there.”“Uh huh”“It’ll be good for your career.”“Definitely.”“How did... how did you get invited?” You hope that doesn’t seem like too cruel a question, but it doesn't quite make sense that she's getting this opportunity at this point.“I guess some producer saw my commercial and really wants me to come.” She shrugs. “I’ll need a dress.”Still feeling a bit suspicious, the next day at work you ask your. "You aren't fucking special get that out of your fucking Nigger head. I been doing it since I was your age time to pull your fucking weight or I'll leave your snotty little black ass on the side of the road. Mr. Trucker has promised not to hurt you. Shut the fuck up and learn what you need to know!" The little girl put her hands over her face and cried while her small shoulders shook. Her whole body trembled as her world whirled out of control. She felt sick and wanted this over with.Pulling on.