Tales of The Pussycat Lounge

Just call me Nocturne. I grew up in an affluent suburb, as the pampered daughter of the richest man in town. I wanted for nothing material.
If the other little girls had one fancy dress, I had ten. When the other little girls wanted an ice cream cone, I wanted Hagen Daaz. By the time I graduated from high school, I had become the total rich bitch.
I was planning on spending my last summer, before college, lazing on the beach at either La Jolla or perhaps a resort on Wailua Bay. Of course, I would need a complete new wardrobe for the trip and enough spending money to hit the hot spots at night.
My father suddenly barges into the house one afternoon. He tells me the authorities have found out what he's doing. Apparently what he's doing isn’t legal. He tells me that I have an hour to pack and leave. If the authorities find me before I get away, they will seize everything that my father and I have. There will be a long, nasty trial and an even longer life of poverty, for both of us.
I quickly gather what I can and stuff everything into a Mustang convertible. Daddy says the Mustang is the only car that the authorities can't trace. Daddy gives me all the ready cash he has, which amounts to a little more than $1,000. He tells me that, if I use a credit card, they will use the charge records to trace me. If I try to use my checking account, the checking account will be soon frozen and also they will trace me by the bad checks.
I say goodbye to Daddy and leave. I'm driving down the back road and just turning the corner when several official looking cars pull into the driveway to Daddy’s house.
I drive for a while, mainly using secondary roads, obeying the speed limits and kind of just keeping out of sight. As I drive, I think my situation over.
Why did Daddy not take one of the other cars and run? Okay, they can trace the car and he would have had to abandon it. However, Daddy can start back up again after he abandons the car. However, whatever it is that Daddy does requires a lot of money. If all Daddy has is $1,000, he can't make it. Thus, he decides to give his daughter a chance to live her life. Good old Daddy!
Wait a minute! What the hell am I going to do? I'm trained to be the pampered wife of a rich man. I can do nothing that will earn me a living. However, Daddy wouldn't just send me away, if there was no hope for my future. Whatever his faults, he has always taken care of me, as best he could. Thus, he can see a way for me to survive, even if he didn't tell me how I'm going to do it. If I'm to survive, I have to earn a living. I just have to figure out what I can do to earn a living.
I stop at a place just before the junctions with the big highways. There I get the car serviced and filled with fuel. While I wait, I go into a restaurant that's part of the same complex. I'll charge the car service and the lunch on my credit card. They can trace the use of my card to the complex, but that will really tell them nothing. I'm already learning to be a miserable little thief and I'm not yet an hour away from home!
I get a salad and iced tea.