My mama always said, “Andy, impulsive choices bring consequences like lingering house guests.” I never paid attention to her admonition, mostly because I have always hated anyone to call me Andy. By not heeding her poignant advice and falling prey to my own petty idiosyncrasies, I missed the lesson regarding consideration of my actions and how they affect other people, and especially that my behavior always has a consequence, good or bad. I finally got the point and I have since etched mama’s axiom on my eyelids. On a business trip to Florida I met a prostitute, Yulee. Two months later, I returned looking for her on an erotic impulse. The illicit quest placed my marriage, career and life in jeopardy. This one poor choice dropped me into a mire of deceit and conspiracy driven by a seedy sexual subculture, which pitted me against myself as my own worst adversary. Within two days I had lost control, spiraling into a vortex of my own guilt, paranoia and psychological self-flagellation. I am sure the end of my intense and colorful carnival ride will shock you as much as it did me.
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