I Am Cindy Grant Chase

Cindy died in the state prison for men. There was no infirmary in the women’s prison, so she was transfered to the men’s prison. Before she died she could look out her window and see lots of men.

I would know nothing about Cindy Grant except for a red Jaguar XJS with no engine that my brother picked up for 50 bales of hay. Our farm ledger is a book called 50 sheds of hay, that is a riff off of the book 50 shades of gray. It is a book that I have not read. Yet it is a book known for innuendo.

The red Jag in question was a Rouge Edition. It was previously owned by Cindy Grant. She had bought the car with a stolen credit card. Cindy would do jail time and the car would be placed in storage. What Cindy was most famous for was the oldest profession. With the car came stories about limo rides. I heard stories from people in the back seat and from the front seat. Sort of the upstairs and the downstairs of the trade.

I also heard stories of shootings and boats, and I learned there was was a TV show about Cindy. Of course I purchased the episode from Amazon. The stories I had heard were much more elaborate than what was told on TV, yet the TV confirmed the lurid details of her life.

Naturally there was no mention of the automobile. The red Jaguar was casually cast aside. Not even a footnote in the story of her life. Yet it is possible that the red Jaguar is the only thing that remains of her rather passionate story.

So why would I compare myself to Cindy? In the end she died in the men’s prison. By all accounts she loved men. She desired nothing more than passion. I was told that she was able to look out at the jail yard from her room. It was a jail yard filled with men. I was told she was extraordinarily pained to see all those men that she could not pleasure.

Myself, I am pleasured by machines running. A well running machine makes me happy. Yet I am frequently surrounded by machines that do not run. Running machines gives me pleasure. To be surrounded by machines that I cannot bring to life, gives me pain.

Odd as it may be, that is my comparison.

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