My bathroom essay

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My bathroom essay

The headliner was comedian and now-senator, Al Franken. Franken had written some skits for the show and brought props and costumes to go along with them. Like many USO shows before and since, the skits were full of sexual innuendo geared toward a young, male audience.

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As a TV host and sports broadcaster, as well as a model familiar to the audience from the covers of FHM, Maxim and Playboy, I was only expecting to emcee and introduce the acts, but Franken said he had written a part for me that he thought would be funny, and I agreed to play along.

I suspected what he was after, but I figured I could turn my head at the last minute, or put my hand over his mouth, to get more laughs from the crowd. On the day My bathroom essay the show Franken and I were alone backstage going over our lines one last time.

Then he said it again.

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We did the line leading up to the kiss and then he came at me, put his hand on the back of my head, mashed his lips against mine and aggressively stuck his tongue in my mouth. All I could think about was getting to a bathroom as fast as possible to rinse the taste of him out of my mouth.

I felt disgusted and violated. No one saw what happened backstage. We were in the middle of a war zone, it was the first show of our Holiday tour, I was a professional, and I could take care of myself.

My bathroom essay

I told a few of the others on the tour what Franken had done and they knew how I felt about it. I tried to let it go, but I was angry. Other than our dialogue on stage, I never had a voluntary conversation with Al Franken again.

I avoided him as much as possible and made sure I was never alone with him again for the rest of the tour. Franken repaid me with petty insults, including drawing devil horns on at least one of the headshots I was autographing for the troops.

The tour wrapped and on Christmas Eve we began the hour trip home to L. After 2 weeks of grueling travel and performing I was exhausted. When our C cargo plane took off from Afghanistan I immediately fell asleep, even though I was still wearing my flak vest and Kevlar helmet.

I felt violated all over again. I told my husband everything that happened and showed him the picture. But that was then, this is now. I had locked up those memories of helplessness and violation for a long time, but they all came rushing back to me and my hands clinched into fists like it was yesterday.

Every time I hear his voice or see his face, I am angry. Someday, I thought to myself, I would tell my story. That day is now. Senator Franken, you wrote the script. You knew exactly what you were doing.My ex-husband filed for divorce when I was six months pregnant with my third son.

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