My Life As A Teen Prostitute

I was 17 and it was the summer of 1997. I had been working in Dolcis, a shoe shop on Oxford Street for a grand total of 8 days before I got the boot. They told me “it wasn’t working out.” When I probed further I was told that I had caused disenchantment on the shop floor. I can’t lie I did and I felt quite justified in doing so after finding out that the three white girls that were employed there (also teenagers) got paid more that all the darker hued teenage staff. And so I was escorted to my locker to collect my things and walked to the door by a security guard. THE SHAME OF IT!