The Peggy Yacyniak Story


   

Peggy Yacyniak was a stripper who was popular on the New Jersey circuit during the late 1970s and into the early 1980s, who I met for a brief time during the late 1980s.

This is a revised version of a novel I originally posted in 2011, updated with new information, but also includes journal entries and letters written at the time, as well as interviews done later with several of her ex-boyfriends, nearly all of whom continued to express their love for her.

 With the original book, I did not include journal entries, which I am including now, even though some of the information is repetitive or in some cases, reflect badly upon myself. I will try to insert the journal and letter in-between the original chapters in order to give depth to story. This version comes after the last of her family members have passed away, allowing me to expand slightly on the story which I could not do while they were alive.


01-- Dancer on the Sand

02-Peggy’s grave

03- Love in Hackensack

04- Roots in the old world

05- The My Way Lounge

06-A girl with attitude

07- Taking notice of Peggy

08- The candy man

 09- How old do you think I look?

10- Happy Birthday, Wolfman

11- Chicken Scratch

16- What happened to Peggy’s Paddington Bear?

12- Survival kit for a NY Giants fanatic

13- A ride to remember

14-Peggy’s World

15 - Unicorns and John Wayne

16- Dinner for two?

17- The Club House Saloon

18 -- Return to My Way

19- Meeting EL

20 - Stuck in the middle

21 - Movie material

22- The Cave

23 -- The frigid princess

24 - What color are my eyes?

25 - Between the sheets

26 - Happy hour?

27 missing the point

28 – sometimes boys get lucky

29 - Melting

30 – the Candy Man Can

31 -- Dinner at my place

32 -- Baby can you fix my car?


More to come

  

Peggy journal entries


 email to Al Sullivan

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15- Chicken Scratch

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    *********************   Unnerved by the incident, I avoided the My Way for a while after that, hoping that a little time away might make it safe to return and have the My Way be what it was before. When I did go back, I picked a Saturday, a night I thought Peggy would not be dancing and yet I could somehow work my way back into Wolfman’s good graces. The whole plan fell apart when I saw Peggy on the stage and she saw me and howled. “You stood me up, you son of a bitch!” Wolfman gnawed on his cigar so hard I thought he might swallow it. I pretended not to hear Peggy and settled on a stool somewhat up the bar from the stage. “I’m talking to you!” Peggy yelled. I sighed and nodded, taking hold of the bar Mary quickly put in front of me. “Well?” Peggy asked. “I don’t know what to tell you,” I said. “You can tell me why you left when I told you to stay.” “Your boss told me to leave so I left.” “WHAT?” Peggy said, glancing sharply at Wolfman. “Didn’t he
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16- What happened to Peggy’s Paddington Bear?

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    Peggy was in a foul mood when I got to the bar the next night, and she eyed me and my notebook from the stage as if I carried a disease.             Mary hurried over as I sat on the same stool at the previous night.             “Don’t do anything foolish,” Mary warned. “Peggy’ll gear your head off.”             “Is it something I did?”             “Not unless you swiped the Paddington Bear off her car last night.”             “Paddington Bear?”             “A thing she had on her car – a bear in a NY Giants uniform. She’s a real sucker for NY Giants stuff like that.”             “And she suspects me of taking it?”             “She suspects everybody. So just lay low and don’t cause trouble.”             I didn’t have a lot of money, so I figured I wouldn’t be around long enough to cause much trouble anyway.             Just the same, I slid my notebook to the floor at my feet, just on the off chance Peggy had changed her mind over night. I didn’t want to
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 Journal: Jan. 28, 1987 I went and got drunk last night. Something I was really too tired to do, and foolish for doing. I always tend to be idiotic in the exhausted state, and this was no exception. Worse still are the places I choose, rather one place, from which I used to begin great and epic journeys through the go-go-strip-club world. The My Way Lounge goes way back to my early days with Hank, who discovered it as a refuge from the scum of other go-go bars. But the history of the place goes deeper, and the people have begun to become even more familiar now that I go there less often than I once did. I met two very special people there: Bethame – an over the hill go-go dancer who became my friend, and Chris, a My Way barmaid who, dying of cancer, decided to live out the rest of her life in a “Devil & Mrs. Jones” fantasy. People in these places change frequently, a coming and going in which only the customers remain the same. Go-go dancing, prostitution and porno – li
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