Shot Girls is the real life, raw accounting of Vanity Wonder's 5 year journey with black market butt injections. Commonly called "shots", "pumping" or "work", illegal butt injections are quickly on the rise and not just for strippers or women in the entertainment industry. Known for her jaw dropping 34-23-45 curves, Vanity tells no lies about how she obtained them. In this book, Vanity takes you on a gripping ride through her 16+ injection procedures, drug abuse, and the lessons she learned along the way. Without a doubt, this book will answer any questions you may have about this procedure and satisfy your curiosity on the subject. Shot Girls By Vanity Wonder AuthorHouse Copyright © 2012 Vanity Wonder All right reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4685-6849-3 Chapter One Kenny By 2004, I was 23 and tired of taking orders from power drunk managers. I had worked in restaurants and retail since I was 15 and was completely out of patience. The retail store that I was currently at was the LAST straw. Being a person that doesn't like a strict time schedule meant that I was always waiting until the last minute to leave my house to go to work. It also meant that while at work, I waited until the absolute last second to clock back in from breaks. As soon as my shift was over, I was ready to leave, whether the relief for my department was there or not. I had been thinking about dancing for a while, but hadn't made up my mind about it until I had some bills come in that really needed to be paid. The 24 hours a week I was getting, at only $7 an hour just wasn't cutting it. It was my fault though, because frankly, I didn't want more hours. Around July, I started calling gentleman's clubs to get information. I found out rather quickly that dancing is something that you have to learn about while doing. No one is going to sit with you on the phone to give you information and coach you like its little league. Every club I called kept saying the same line. "Just come in". And I would have, if I had the courage. Every day, me and a friend of mine named Coco, would talk about our money problems. I'd met her through a mutual friend about a year earlier and since we hit it off, we stayed in touch. Coco never had a place of her own so from time to time, I let her stay at my house. She had a daughter that was the same age as my son but because of her issues, and the fact that she didn't have a place to stay, she never had her. She smoked weed and whenever she could get her hands on enough, she sold it too. I've never been interested in the stuff and since smoke gives me a headache, I never allowed the smoking of cigarettes or weed around me. Everyone said she was gay but I never saw that side of her. She never told me that she was and I never asked because I really didn't care. Our friendship wasn't centered on each other sexual orientation. Neither of us ever said one word about it. In my opinion, Coco was a good person but she had some demons and inner turmoil that needed to be dealt with. After a terrible childhood of sexual and physical abuse, I could see why she was emotionally spent. She only lightly talked about her trials as a child. Seeing how angry and upset it made her, I never pushed for more than she was willing to give. She was deeply into poetry and drawing but old habits never die without a fight. The streets were her home and she felt the most comfortable there. I always prided myself on being streetWISE but Coco was FROM the streets, OF the streets and ALWAYS IN the streets. Sometimes things about her bothered me but she was my partner in crime at this moment in my life, and I was willing to deal. When I told Coco that I wanted to take a stab at dancing, she was game. She was willing to accompany me and try out too. With my courage finally at the level that it needed to be, I went on MapQuest and tried to locate as many of the gentlemen's clubs as I could in the Flint area. Flint and Detroit were the only places near me that I was sure strip clubs were, so I decided on Flint. Going back and forth there as a teen, I knew some things would look somewhat familiar. I didn't want to dance in Detroit because I was extremely unfamiliar with the city and it looked to be a very dangerous place from the things I saw on the news. Plus, I was driving a 1991 Grand Marquis and I didn't know how much life it had left in it. I didn't want to push my luck and drive too far. In my mind, Flint made perfect sense. I printed out the directions and on a sunny, hot day in September, we set out. We ended up at some hole in the wall strip clubs and some clearly racist ones, sometimes both of those things rolled into one. Then, we found ourselves outside of the Flint Majestic. I didn't want to go in but it was my last resort. I was told that it smelled like a pussy bomb went off in there and the girls had sex with all the customers. I didn't know what I was going to see in there but I decided to make up my mind