I stopped at a bar after skating for a number of reasons. For starters, I was running a game in there big time. I was 19, but I was a seasoned bartender by then and trained by the maestro herself. I definitely understood the ins and outs and upside-downs of the bar business and could manipulate any and all situations that might crop up and handily. Remember I have these dimples so no one suspects shit, I can tell you that.

So I was doing my thing on that level but I was also fantasizing to beat the band. I was enamored with the lead singer in the band that played in bar but way too sophisticated to not understand what was happening. That is I knew he was on a pedestal and if he ever came off it, he would disappoint so I made sure to keep a buffer between us.

From 2003:

He would have to come to me and he wasn’t going to do that. There was always a selection of girls dancing for him for one thing. Wearing tube tops no less. Yup. He had a perennial, wriggling buffet positioned at his feet at the edge of the stage and he took full advantage.

I watched him pick a girl each night targeting her, singing to her and so forth. He had a type and I was her but not this lifetime, babe. I’m stupid except for when I am not. I was not going to be his “tonight’s plaything” but this did not stop me from hitchhiking. Hey. The guy was er… well he just was. I remember his pants to this day so I showed up and drooled behind a pure poker face.

I had my imagination and that is something else I knew, too. These fantasy guys? They’re never worth a damn, are they? No they’re not especially stacked next to what I can dream up so each time Reuben gazed over the heads of the wriggling girls to check my availability, I averted my eyes and as a result I became an enigma in there.

I became an enigma by accident rather than design but pullllease. Once it happened I was completely aware of it and this along with the storyline I had going with the bartender created a great diversion for me.

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