The Troubling Story of Lady Velicoff

Photo of a high school dance scene: low lights and energetic teens.

Photo courtesy of Blake McCleary / Unsplash.com

was a young man at sixteen, unattractive, self-conscious and goofy. I didn’t get many dates. Then I was invited to a high school dance. I was shy and nervous. I wanted to ask the girl I had a crush on to dance with me. But then the school jock swooped her up and started dancing with her instead.  

I felt hurt, sad and embarrassed; I felt like a loser. I had first spotted her out of the corner of my eye. She had a clear, glass-shaped body and a thin neck. I mumbled, “Who is that woman?” Someone responded that she was from Russia; her name was Velicoff, last name Vodka. People warned me, “Be careful, she’s got a little sass to her. She will put a whammy on you and introduce you to no-good friends. She is a liar and a cheater, she will party with anyone. You can’t control a lady like that.”  

But I was all alone, sad and had no confidence. I wanted her. Her smile was so warm and seductive. I grabbed her by the neck and picked her up, I held her in my hands and sniffed the top of her neck. I finally turned her up and we kissed for the first time. At first I thought this was awful, but in a few minutes I felt intoxicated. I grabbed her again and we kissed some, until I had emptied the whole bottle.  

I now felt like a man, I had courage to have my face up and my neck stick out and to become a man. I grabbed the girl I wanted and before she knew it she was dancing and laughing with me. We danced like we were on “Soul Train,” doing the slide, running man and the boogie. I became popular; that is when I began my 25-year romance with Lady Velicoff.  

I woke up the next morning tired, with a headache, trembling and sick. Lady Velicoff was lying on the floor and a girl was lying next to me. Then I heard my parents scream “Jeffery!” and had to sneak both of them out of my room. But after they left I was alone and despondent. I went out again, looking for this fascinating woman named Lady Velikoff. I spotted her on the shelf at the grocery store. I grabbed her and said “Come on, let’s go!” The cashier said she was too old for me and I started crying. I missed her. I was starting to fall in love with her. I wanted her and was willing to go to the end of the earth for such a remarkable woman. 

I soon met a man who had been drinking Velicoff for years. He was drunk and stumbling. He said, “You really want to hang out with the big dogs?” I said, “It’s time to be a man!” We grabbed our lady, went into some park and partied. Everyone shared stories about all the good times they had with Veli. Then they began introducing me to the whole crew. There was Mary Jane — she had green eyes and was hazy when she lit up. There was someone white named Ecstasy, and a black lady named Angel. I also hung out with some players like Johnny Walker, a guy from Tennessee named Jack Daniels and another person from the south named Jim Beam.  

Soon Veli transformed my personality. There were many fights because of her and a lot of arguing. I couldn’t give her up; she had a hold on me. She got me so depressed, she would get me thrown out of places cause I would have her all over my breath. I was put in handcuffs because she made me fight over her. She was a she-devil. People stopped hanging out with me; I got fired many times. She had my head spinning and my body shaking; she made me vomit. She had me committed to a mental institution.  

I finally got out of the psyche ward a confident man. I was eating and lifting weights; women began dating me again and my family welcomed me home.  

Then, there she was — waiting for me at home. We had a big fight that night, she got me so angry I strangled her and tried to flush her down the toilet. Then, I picked her up, threw her against the wall and shattered her. I had to kill her in order to live and it hurt me, but I needed to get her out of my system. 

I started going to groups and heard that I wasn’t the only one. I haven’t seen her in five months, but she keeps calling me and leaving messages. She comes to my dreams and sometimes enters my thoughts, but I distract myself with other things. A sober high is like making love — if you’re not enjoying it, you are doing something wrong. 

Bye Bye Veli! Good riddance! 

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