Personal Narrative: Meghan Lovehart

Though I’d never admit it to Stella, being a part time investigator has its perks. The pay is amazing. I have access to all the VIP parties and clubs in New York City, and always have tickets to the hottest broadway shows. I get to work with my best friend in the entire universe, Lily Holland. And also, because of my perk filled job, I’ve been able to meet Meghan Freaking Lovehart. The five time oscar winning, four time Emmy winning Meghan Lovehart. The woman deemed ‘most sexiest alive’ by People magazine. The actress who I may or may not have a life sized poster of hidden in the depths of my closet. But even though the perks of my job are pretty amazing (Meghan freaking Lovehart!), being a part time investigator sucks. For the last four years,

90% of the time their instincts were right on target, but it was up to me to find proof of an affair- and provide enough information for the divorce to go smoothly. That included my usual skulking around and stakeouts. But it also meant taking pictures of the affair happening. Which meant I got real up close and personal with total strangers. I have no idea what Stella was thinking when she assigned me with all the infidelity cases; why the hell would you let a 15 year old deal with that kind of thing? Sure, I may have been small enough to fit in small spaces, and good enough with a camera I could be counted on to take good pictures- but I was fifteen. That had to be child abuse. Never mind the fact that I had taken the job even though I knew what it entailed. I was still so young and innocent back then. I thought sex was something magical, something you did with only someone you really loved, and only when you were ready to have a

Sex is just.. Just gross. It looked more like torture instead of pleasure from where I was hiding, the client’s wife was being squashed against the huge belly of a man three times her size. Bodies all tangled together, grunting and moaning sounds that were similar to that of a dying whale.. I still have nightmares about that terrible night. Other than sex being just plain disgusting, I’ve noticed how it brings out the worse in people. The seemingly good are bad, the innocent not so innocent after all. The people you thought you knew best? You don’t really know them at all. Or maybe my epiphany is totally off the mark, and this is me just being butthurt. After all, who wouldn’t be crushed to find out that their queen, the person they’ve looked up to ever since they started watching movies was a