The Disturbing Ex-Girlfriend Visions (A Short Story)


1990s Downtown Orlando. Back when EDM was called techno and rave music.  Yet, during this particular time, rappers Tupac and Biggie were already murdered.

I was hanging out at a favorite sleaze joint, a nightclub which shall remain nameless.

At this spot, the ladies always danced on a stage. If a dude jumped onstage, a bouncer would tell him to get down. Even the DJ would get on his microphone and yell at a guy who jumped onstage.

One night, I walked near the right side of the stage. From there, I watched an onstage girl dance.  A brunette with curves.

As I watched the dancing brunette, a bad feeling crawled over me. I started thinking about my ex-girlfriend Stephanie, a biracial woman who wore thick dreadlocks. She was the creation from a black father and white mother.

A mental picture showed Stephanie standing in front of me in the nightclub.  An angry look on her face was aiming directly at me. As this happened, I feared for Stephanie’s future.

By the way, she never patronized the nightclub. She said it was too sleazy.

At the time, I thought nothing of the vision. I forgot all about it. And I never got with the dancing brunette either.

Another night. The same nightclub.  Same spot near the stage. This time, I was watching two girls onstage grinding against each other. A Hispanic and a blonde. Regulate by Warren G and Nate Dog was playing. The two women continued grinding and grinding against each other.  The freakiness was going down.

But what happened? The Stephanie vision returned.  Again, she was standing in front of me in the nightclub.

“You asshole,” she yelled. “You never cared about me!”

In the real world, I did care about Stephanie. True enough, she was a nutcase that almost ran me crazy, but I still cared about her.

Still, in this vision, I didn’t give two shits about Stephanie. Didn’t have any feelings for her at all.  I just wanted her to go.

Yet, again, I feared something bad happening in her future.

Again, I thought nothing of the vision. I just continued watching the two freaky girls onstage.

Yet, later that night, I dreamed about Stephanie. In the dream, we’re back in the nightclub. This time, Stephanie was lying on the floor on her back. Eyes opened as blood leaked everywhere from her.

That dream haunted me for months. Even years. Yet, I eventually forgot about it.

As for what happened to Stephanie for real? Last time I heard, she got married. She’s still alive.

Recently in a bar, I ran into Keith, a sandy-haired white guy I used to always see in the nightclubs.

Sitting at the bar counter, we started reminiscing about old times. Somewhere along the line, I mentioned the fun I used to have at the nameless nightclub.

Suddenly, Keith paused and stared at me.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“I guess you never heard about Linda Davis,” Keith said.


Then, Keith told me the story.

Around 1990, a woman named Linda Davis worked at the nightclub. She was a blonde woman who shared a romantic fling with one of the nightclub owners. Yet, the owner was married.

One day, they were standing in front of the stage.

“I’m not leaving my wife and kids,” the owner said.

“You asshole,” Linda said. “You never cared about me.  I was just a whore to you.”

Then, Linda reached into her purse. Pulled out a gun. Aimed the gun at her temple. Pow! Linda shot herself in the head right in front of the owner.

The media never made a big deal out it. The suicide only gained a small paragraph in the Orlando Sentinel’s local section. Plus there was no mention of a secret romance. The only thing mentioned was Linda Davis killing herself after being fired. Of course, she was never fired.

After that, the owner sold his share of the business. His wife left him anyway. Divorce gained his wife a lot from him. Money. Kids. The house. She even got the dog.

After Keith told me this story, I remembered those visions and the dream I had about Stephanie back in the 90s. I had forgotten all about them. Didn’t even think about them until I heard this story about Linda Davis.

I realized those visions and the dream were about Linda and the nightclub owner.  In the visions and the dream, Stephanie was Linda. And I was the nightclub owner.

photo credit: ikopix Angie // Little Vampire via photopin (license)

About Patrick Scott Barnes

Most of Central Florida knows Stone Crazy (Patrick Scott Barnes) as a poet. Yet, he also photographs, DJ and blogs. The rest of the time, the now sober blogger guzzles Diet Coke in Central Florida nightspots.
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