by S Berry

Disclaimers: See Part 1.

Feedback: Please, I’m pathetic and bored. I can be reached at sberrythebard@yahoo.com. My list is still groups.yahoo.com/group/SBerrysStories/ and I’d still be delighted if you joined the madness.

Copyright © 2006 by S Berry. All Rights Reserved.

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Clara --

ROFLMAO! The horrible puns I could make! But I don’t know you well enough to write 99.9% of them, so I’ll be good. Cool. I hoped you wouldn’t mind, but I thought you might find it kinda weird. Some people don’t want to be bothered unsolicited. Oh how cool! I love to read, though I don’t have nearly as much time as I’d like. So, you know all sorts of stuff about me (some of it that I’d forgotten myself), but I don’t really know anything about you. Do you have siblings? A significant other? You know, general getting to know each other questions like that. I think you know most of that stuff about me, but I’ll tell you anyway if you want.

Gail

Gail --

Oh, my god! I didn’t even think of that. Next time, feel free to get as dirty as you want. I come from a family of dirty-minded smart asses; I can take it. I’m sorry about the swearing -- I don’t normally answer the phone like that. I was having the day from Hell. I was trying to sleep and every telemarketer in three counties was calling me -- every twenty minutes like they’d planned it. I have nothing against them, mind -- that’s how my mother has put food on the table for years -- but tolerance goes out the window when you’re trying to sleep after working twenty hours straight. The flu claimed several of the guys and it was inventory day. Funny how the flu always strikes on inventory day. I had to help out front and madly cart around boxes of books, unpacking, coding, counting, and walking around the store -- which is fairly large as bookstores go -- checking to see if our records matched the actual stock. I challenge *anyone* to be cheerful after that. Unfortunately I’m often forced to work double shifts to cover for somebody or so we don’t have to hire someone else. The owner’s a jackass, but he’s a good paying, mostly hands off jackass. I love to read when I manage to find time. I love language -- written, spoken, gestured. That’s what I like about you guys -- your lyrics read like poetry set to music. I’m the oldest of seven -- three of each. No significant other. This is a small town without many gays. I’m pretty shy, so I probably wouldn’t date even if I had time and someone *to* date. I’m not much for asking questions or getting to know people. I figure if someone wants me to know something, they’ll tell me. I do much better with specific questions.

Clara

Clara --

Jesus, that’d make anyone swear. I wasn’t offended; I thought it was funny. I write the words first usually. Lisa and I write lyrics alone, but collaborate with the music usually. I love music, but poetry is my true passion.

Ooh, Twenty Questions! Are you an animal, a mineral, or a vegetable? I’ve always wondered about that. Wouldn’t ‘Are you an animal, a plant, or an inanimate object?’ make much more sense? A desk isn’t an animal, vegetable, or mineral. I’ve never heard anyone be calcium. Well, I’ll just assume when I ask you a question you don’t know the same about me. I’m the oldest of ten -- seven boys, two girls. I don’t have a girlfriend -- it’s impossible to keep one with how much I’m in the studio or on the road. Do you have any pets? I can’t since I’m never home. I have about a month a year where I’m not recording or on the road and I spend most of it writing so we can go record. Not that I don’t do that all year. I always keep paper and pen handy except in the shower. It’s too bad -- I come up with some of my best stuff in there. Ooh, gotta go… Just thought of something.

Gail

Gail --

I’m always a mineral. I do a mean mica. I like to be different. Dang and I thought seven was bad. Eight if you count Eric… He might as well be my brother. I think my mom likes him almost better than the rest of us. I’ve never had a girlfriend. Never had a boyfriend either, before you ask. Gotta go, someone has a report to write and god forbid anyone else give up their computer time.

Clara

Clara --

LOL, based on our short acquaintance, I’d say you succeed nicely in being different. Ah, sounds like my family. I like Lisa much better than my sisters. *She* never cut the hair off my Barbies and she understood Ken was lame and Barbie had much better taste than that. Well, I’ve had a few girlfriends, but never wanted a boyfriend either. Believe it or not, I’m shy too, except when I’m playing. I’m invincible while I’m wielding Excalibur. Yes, I named my guitar Excalibur, but don’t tell… People think I’m strange enough as it is. Okay… here is the delicate question and I’ll accept ballpark numbers… how old are you? I’m 34. What state do you live in? Damn, Lisa’s here, reminding me it’s poker night. I’d better go lose my money. Damn card shark. Ack! She saw that and smacked me. Ouch! She did it again. Does Eric beat you too or am I the only one who suffers best friend abuse? Ouch! Damn it, she did it again. I’d better go before she goes for four. Ouch! Too late.

Gail

Gail --

Hmm… I guess I’ll take that as a compliment lol. So you always knew? I didn’t really let myself think about it within the realm of possibilities until I was seventeen. Being gay isn’t really cool here. I mean, no one’s ever gotten beaten (here), but the whispered comments are loud as shouts, you know? I had a couple ‘boyfriends’ that were Eric’s friends that were gay. We played cover for one another. It was a running joke among his friends that if you thought you might be gay, you kissed me and if you managed to stay awake, you might be straight. I’m not sure if I really kiss that bad or they were just all really gay. I have to admit I’m slightly afraid to find out. I’m actually still friends with a couple of them; we have a running joke where they tease me I turned them gay and I protest that I was perfectly straight until I kissed them. Then Eric says *he* was perfectly straight ’til he kissed me. Then we all pucker up and chase one another all over the house to ‘degay’ one another until Mom yells to take it outside. All my family and friends know I’m gay, but I don’t announce it. People see what they want to see and it’s no one’s business but mine. I do know a few girls who are… liberal… but they’re drug addicts and that’s a scene I want no part of. If there are any others, they’re so deep in the closet gaydar can’t reach them. Not being into drugs or interior design, I remain single. I’m not sensitive about my age… I’m 25. I wasn’t raised to consider it a forbidden question. It’s just a number. I have no idea why having a high number is bad and a low number is good. Maybe I was in the bathroom while that was explained. I live in Kansas, but shouldn’t you know that already? You mailed me a package -- to the exact address.

I can never get anyone to play poker with me. I’m not a card shark, but I win more than I lose. I’m surrounded by rummy fiends. I suck like a fleet of Hoovers’ at rummy. I don’t even ask people to play for money at poker, so I don’t know why they won’t play. Playing for money is just asking for trouble with a bullhorn.

Eric and I don’t smack each other. I threaten to tell this author friend of mine he has a crush on… that he has a crush on him. He threatens to tell this one girl I have a crush on her **shudders**. I wouldn’t go there for world peace. Okay, I’m going to go get rid of that nasty mental image. A case of beer and two of bleach might be enough -- just barely.

Clara

Clara --

Yeah, didn’t really put a name to it ’til junior high. I’ve never, ever had a crush on a man. I don’t hate them or anything; just have no desire to sleep with one. LMAO! Eric sounds like a character. Lisa and I practiced kissing, but we didn’t like each other like that; we were just curious. Sounds like our hometown. We never fit in. We ran off at sixteen to New York, armed with fake ID’s. Sang in seedy bars. Boy did we get educated quick! It paid off in the end, I guess. Don’t mind me; I have horrible luck with women and it gets me all depressed. I only seem to attract women who want my money or to ride my coattails. Even when I was broke, I only seemed to attract the good time Charlenes who just wanted a roll on the orange shag carpet of the love machine with a musician and it didn’t matter which one. That’s part of what I like about you -- you seem to be more interested in Gail than Sawyer, if that makes sense. You don’t seem to be impressed or particularly care about that part of me.

I don’t get the whole obsession with age either. I have to admit I did freak just a bit when I hit 30, but it was more because of the whole Grammy thing. At least that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I just barely remember twenty-five. I drank heavily back then. We played a lot of bars for drinks and tips or free drinks and a percentage of the take. We got our money’s worth. We were starting to get a few better gigs, but we still mostly managed ourselves and playing for beer suited us just fine. We drove this god-awful beat up brown and cream van with orange shag carpeting. We’d jam our equipment in the far back and sit in the front eating ramen noodles cooked in a sauce pan with an extremely loose handle held over a sterno can on a cement block and just beam at each other over how cool we were. We thought it was such a love machine. We were right **g**. We’ve driven through Kansas more times than I can count and I think we’ve even stopped and played several places. One bar looks like another after awhile. We used to just stop in a bar and ask to play for drinks and tips for the hell of it or gas money. LOL, used to hell; we still do sometimes. We’re just more selective now. We used to go “Hey, there’s more than six cars and a Bud sign -- let’s see if they’ll let us play.” Now we hold out for seven cars **g**.

I didn’t mail it myself. Lisa did it to make up for skipping out on me. She probably made Marty, our manager, do it, but I’m not really sure. She just said it was mailed, but they’ve both been giving me weird looks. **Scowls** Nobody gave me the address later either. I don’t even know what return address she put on it; she could’ve put mine on it for all I know.

I like rummy, but I suck at it too. Now, Monopoly, I kick ass and take names. No one will play with me anymore. I wonder if they have an online version?

I think I prefer to be smacked. But tell me about this girl. I have to know what’s so horrible about her.

What’s your favorite color? Book? Author? Do you read online fiction? I do, especially on tour. Mine’s green. If I had to choose, I’d say Linda Greenberg and Heaven in High Heels. My favorite poet is Emily Dickinson and my favorite of her poems is “I’m Nobody; Who are you?” hands down.

Tour starts tomorrow. I’ll have my laptop with me and I’ll probably be able to stay in more frequent contact, but things tend to get crazy so who knows? Sorry we don’t have any shows in Kansas; I’ll see what I can do for next year. Sigh. I have to finish packing, so I have to go. I hate packing for tours. Actually, I hate packing in general, but packing for tours is especially annoying.

Gail

Gail --

Jesus, on your own at sixteen? I was too busy helping Mom raise kids to cross the street. I still live in the basement at home. It’s a separate apartment, but still. Heck, I’m still helping her with the kids.

I don’t impress easily. I love your music and I write to it when I have time to write, but I don’t think you guys are goddesses because you can be socially relevant in rhyme and carry a tune.

Ah, that makes sense. I’ll be happy to give it to you, but I don’t like to email stuff like that. So I’m paranoid. I don’t know what possessed me to fill out that info on the entry form, for that matter.

I love Monopoly -- if you find an online version, let me know, and I’ll do the same. Are you a money hoarder or a land baron? I buy everything, but I’m nice. I’ll take IOUs for rent. I still win a lot of the time.

She’s just nasty. She has more traffic in and out of her bedroom than JFK (the airport, not the president). That’s not the nasty part; I have no problem with extremely… friendly… people. She’s just utterly indiscriminate -- her only criterion seems to be a vague nod to mammalism. Not vaguely bipedal, just mammalian. I’ve heard all the area livestock is scared of her.

Mine’s blue. I can’t decide on a favorite book or author. I’ve never heard of Linda Greenberg; I’m so looking her up at work. I read online fiction when I have time and I actually have a few stories out there. I find writing strangely relaxing and some days I need all the relaxation I can get. Emily Dickinson rules. Oddly, that’s my favorite poem of hers too, with Curious Wine a close second.

I’m not a concert person -- I hate a lot of noise and crowds. I’m a bit claustrophobic. A small crowd I might be able to tolerate, but your concerts are anything but small. Take care out there on the road.

Clara

Clara --

Why do you think I ran off? Lisa and I always dreamed of being famous musicians. It sure as hell wasn’t easy, I don’t always enjoy it, and I hurt my folks, but we did it and they’ve gotten over it. There’s nothing wrong with living in your parents’ basement. Rent is cheaper and it’s less likely you’ll be evicted.

That’s not paranoid; that’s common sense. I have your number, so I could find your address, now that I think of it.

You’re a writer? Cool! I can’t write prose for anything; songs are my only talent. I’m flattered that you write to my music. That’s seriously cool. Do you have a favorite CD to write to? Where are you posted? Maybe I’ve read some of your stuff. ROFLMAO -- ‘socially relevant in rhyme’ -- I have to tell Lisa that.

Well, supposedly, the president was well-trafficked himself **g**. Ugh… I see why you want to keep your distance from her. Now I *know* I’d rather be smacked. He’s just evil.

I still haven’t totally gotten used to the crowds myself. Sometimes I still have to sing with my eyes closed. Maybe if you sat in the wings? I’d like to meet you and how much more public can you get? Eric too, of course. I could hook you up with heavy duty ear plugs.

Well, the denizens of wherever the hell I am are waiting. Here’s hoping *someone* knows. All the shows blur together.

Gail

Gail --

I’ve wanted to run away from my responsibilities (and they’re legion) more than once. Sometimes I just get so damn fed up… I feel horribly guilty just thinking about it.

My stuff’s on Eric’s site, http://www.write_me.com. He writes really weird fantasy stuff. I mostly write romantic fluff or random weird comedies when I’m stressed. I, uh, borrowed a couple of your songs -- disclaimed, of course -- for a character long before we met. I’m sorry. I forgot until I reread everything to see if there was anything I’d die if you saw. Eric will remove it if you ask.

We’ll be at your St. Louis concert in five months. It’s only a six hour drive. We’re buying tickets the moment they go on sale. Eric read over my shoulder again. He talked me into it. I wanted to, but… Well, we’re going to make a vacation out of it. Hit the Ozarks. I haven’t taken a day off since Eric’s gay bashing five years ago, so it’s about time.

Christ! Work just called -- someone flooded the men’s room and I have to go play handydyke. God forbid we get a plumber. Damn cheapskate rat bastard.

Clara

Clara --

I haven’t had time to read much, but I read the one with my lyrics. Don’t apologize; I loved it. Lisa and I don’t mind if you use more as long as we get autographed copies. I emailed the webmaster to tell them the same thing. I like your version better than the truth. Someday I’ll tell you the story, but don’t believe anything Lisa says about it. Ow! How does she *do* that?! She only reads over my shoulder when I don’t want her to.

Don’t buy tickets; my mama will have my hide. Come as my guests. If you watch from the wings, it won’t cost anyone anything, before you try that argument. You can hang out backstage afterward and let me know if it was worth it. Gotta go -- sound check.

Gail

Gail --

God, all Eric can talk about is how great you are (like I don’t know) and I’ve heard your entire email about twenty times (I could recite it word for word after the fourth time). He’s rewritten his reply about thirty times. (He set me up with a blind date.) I doubt I’ll ever get published. I’m just a hobbyist. I don’t have much time to write. I guess stranger things have happened, though.

I insist on buying tickets. I just wouldn’t feel right otherwise. We can afford it or we wouldn’t be going.

I was up all night fixing that damn toilet and cleaning up. Some dumb ass somehow -- I don’t want to even try to imagine how or why -- managed to flush a half pint of vodka. It was a disaster. I’m sparing you lots of details. I’m gonna go scald myself again.

Clara

Clara --

Aw, his email was so cute. So… what’s this about naughty dreams? Enquiring minds want to know. And what blind date? Keep writing. I read Ninja Guppies. Hon, that’s *so* wrong! Well-written, funny as hell, but just wrong. Lisa agrees with me. (I couldn’t be the only one with those mental images.) Everyone thinks we’re insane because we’re running around making fish faces and doing truly awful fake karate movie dialogue with even worse fake karate moves. I was doing that during a set break in New York, trying to make Big Ed, the drummer, laugh. The guy’s a brick wall; we’re always doing stupid crap to make him laugh. I was so busy being a jackass I didn’t realize the curtain had come up, so 5,000 fans think I’m insane. I totally blanked out; I was mortified. Lisa jumped in with one of her numbers. Big Ed wet his pants laughing, so I won the pool -- $1,500. Bastards -- it was $5,000 last week. Since I wouldn’t have won without you, consider yourself the owner of two really expensive tickets. I know you won’t, so send a check to your favorite charity. We donate a percentage of ticket sales to charity anyway. I don’t feel right taking money from you. Fair?

Jesus, a half pint? I hope it was empty and plastic. Thank you for not sharing. My first job was cleaning a no tell motel; I can imagine. I hope you got overtime. God, and I thought *Marty* was a miser (except with our money).

God, I’m exhausted, but too wired to sleep. I’m typing one handed; I signed over 300 autographs in 4 hours. After about 200, I just made squiggles that might, possibly, if you squinted really hard, look not quite unentirely like my name. It’s insane to make us sign autographs after a concert. I don’t know why we can’t do autographs in the afternoon and just talk to people after the show. Take lists of names and mail ’em a signed picture later. I don’t want to disappoint anyone who pays hard earned money to come see me live, but god, I hurt. I have to get up early to do interviews, too. I hate doing them. Sorry for the whining.

Gail

Gail --

Ohmigod! Naughty dreams?! I haven’t -- and he’d be the last person I’d tell, anyway. He hyperventilates if you say ‘vagina’. (Though, to be fair, I’m blushing typing it.) No date -- turns out she lied about her age. She’s sixteen. I posted on his blog that he had heterosexual fantasies about Janet Reno. ROFLMAO! You were doing the Ninja Guppy on stage? Aw, poor baby, getting caught. I’m sure you looked so incredibly cool you’ve started a new dance craze. Hmm…maybe they need a theme song…Unfortunately, the only thing I can think of that rhymes with ‘guppies’ is ‘puppies’. Somehow, I don’t see “Ninja Guppies/Don’t kick puppies” as a chart topper. Happy to help, but I’m still sending a check to Children’s Mercy.

Nope, full and glass… thus the disbelief. I didn’t check to see what it was full *of*, but it was clear. It would’ve cost too much to get a plumber at 2am and shutting down would limit profit. Like it didn’t drive off customers anyway. At least he has decent tools. Thank god we had a good DIY book in stock. Lucky I’m strong ’cause I had to unbolt the damn toilet and lift it to fix it. Stupid bastard.

Christ, that sounds awful. Are you going to be all right? Pretend I could think of something really comforting and uplifting to say. Inventory day again and I’m barely keeping my eyes open.

C

Clara --

ROFLMAO. He said, “It’s so nice to finally ‘meet’ the subject of Clara’s naughty dreams. Can you really bend yourself into a pretzel? I had to drive her to the chiropractor after that one. I don’t know *how* she got into that position.” He’s being stingy with the good details though.

Hmm… “Ninja guppies, a dying breed/on a quest to spread their seed” perhaps? Or “they save innocent fishes/from worm-induced death wishes”? I’ll think about it. I *am* a professional.

I’ll live; it’s just a pain, literally and figuratively. But that’s just the price you pay. Aw, poor baby. Another twenty hour shift?

Gail

Gail --

He’s lying. I’ve never been to a chiropractor in my life. Though… *can* you? Enquiring minds want to know and promise not to tell the newspaper that’s cribbed from. Ooh, nice… How about “Ninja guppies, a class apart/they’ve made breeding into an art”? Or “those watery Casanovas/spread their ways all over”?

Jesus, there’s an epidemic. The upstairs toilet wouldn’t flush, so I set to fixing it. Well, a half full quart bottle of cheap whiskey wedged under the flusher arm will do that. Usually only the kids use that bathroom, so I asked them. They all denied bringing it in, but everyone drank some. I promised not to tell Mom if they promised to use their common sense. There’s so much pressure to be cool which always seems to involve drinking. I said they could hang with Eric if they *had* to drink; they love him and he won’t let them do anything stupid. Neither Eric nor I knew what else to do. (He called to ask me to double with him and his boyfriend and a closet case friend of Dave’s; fortunately, this drama distracted him.) Neither of us want to aid and abet, but if we tell Mom, they’ll just hid it better… Kevin, Eric’s older brother kept an eye on us the same way, and we thought we were too cool for high school parties. (He was in college.) Hopefully… I’m going to pop some Tylenol and go to bed. I have a headache that’d drop an elephant at five paces.

Clara

Clara --

Of course, but I made you blush. Now, that’d be telling. **wink** Sometimes I’m just evil.

Hon, it’s a lose-lose situation. You picked the least bad choice.

What else have you been up to? Nothing interesting here, just singing. Lisa offered me twenty bucks to do the Ninja Guppy again, but I just glared and smacked her. One set of fans thinking I’m nuts is enough, thank you very much. Other than us, what kind of music do you like? I like rock, folk, and bluegrass, obviously, but I’ll listen to just about anything but rap. I hate rap. I even like a few disco songs. What’s your favorite food? I love a big thick bacon cheeseburger, onion rings, and a big strawberry malt. God, I made myself hungry. I wonder if there’s any place around here to get that? I’m going to go see what I can hunt up.

Gail

Gail --

Hey! No fair joining his evil plot! He is so dead. He gave this former hooker/stripper junkie *mom’s* number and told her I thought she was hot! Okay, yeah, I do, but hello? Junkie? Plays with guns? He says it doesn’t matter. He hangs with stoner boys without doing drugs or getting into trouble. Maybe if I just wanted to screw around, or she was my type otherwise, but I don’t and she isn’t. I’m sorry, but I like a girl with an IQ higher than her bra size. She called at *2:30am*. My mother was so not happy. Neither was I. I’d just finally gotten to sleep after another hellishly long shift. I agreed to meet her at the bar this weekend just to get her off the phone. I am way too nice for my own good. I couldn’t think of a polite way to tell her I wouldn’t date her if she were the last woman on earth. Maybe I can have selective flu ’til she gets the hint. I’m absolutely dreading it. It’s *Karaoke* this weekend. I’m tempted to wear my “Those who can, sing. Those who can’t do karaoke” shirt. I’m trying to think of something evil enough to get back at him. I’m all ears if you have any suggestions.

I love country. Other than you guys, I only like two or three other alt rock/folk artists. I’m sorry, but one I actually like better, but only because she’s from Kansas too. I despise rap. I don’t ordinarily approve of censorship, but a lot of it is extremely offensive. Treat it like porn. If you’re over eighteen and want to listen to it in the privacy of your own home, fine. Limit in public to places only consenting adults go. Favorite food? Ugh, too many, as my waistline indicates. I’ll eat about anything that has meat in it. Pizza is good for that. I love snickerdoodles with strawberry milk, too.

Clara

Clara --

Oh my God -- a junkie hooker? I thought Kansas was so wholesome. He must be punished. Bad best friend. Um, at least she’s cute? You could tell her you have a big diesel dyke girlfriend and he was just kidding.

Rap as porn… I like. Country rocks. God, I haven’t had snicker doodles in probably twenty years. I eat far too much pizza on the road -- pizza places are usually the only places open after a show. So you’re a little heavier than you think you should be? You know, it occurs to me I have no idea what you look like. Are you tall? Short? Brunette, blonde, redhead? Glasses? Peg leg? Peg leg?! Okay, I need to cut down on the caffeine. Duty calls meanwhile.

Gail

Gail --

It is, comparatively, but the urban areas are… urban. Where I live is getting more and more urban, unfortunately, but she’s from Little Rock, Arkansas. Unfortunately, I *am* a tall diesel dyke type. I could still invent a girl, though. Or just be honest. Hell, she just called wondering where I am. I’m not supposed to be there for half an hour. Well, might as well get it over with. Keep your fingers crossed I survive.

Clara

Clara --

All I get is you’re tall? That’s not fair -- you know exactly what I look like. How tall is tall? How’d it go with hooker girl? What *is* her name, anyway? Dish! I’d tell you about the hookers throwing themselves at me, but there’s not really anything to tell. Just the usual groupies willing to do *anything* for me, wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Oh, and a woman in a gorilla suit leaped onstage and proposed. That was new. The other was old years ago and is annoying really. I used to find it flattering ’til I realized it had nothing to do with *me*. Same thing happens to any musician, regardless of looks or personality. The gorilla suit was kinda interesting, though. I hope someone got a picture of the look on my face. I’m sure I’ve never looked like that before. I’ll have Marty see if it made any papers. I’m not making it up, I swear. I don’t think I said no, now that I think about it. Oh, Lisa’s here to rag on me. Joy.

Gail

Gail --

Sorry, hooker girl -- Mikki -- distracted me. I was going to send you this picture Eric hunted up for you. It’s from Kevin’s wedding a while back. I wore a suit to please his wife. The guy’s Eric. Okay, a woman in a gorilla suit got into the concert? Perhaps y’all need better security. If you find a picture of that, please send me a copy or tell me where. I have to see that.

Oh, my god! Eric must die! Very slowly and very, very painfully. Mikki was all over me all night long like a friggin’ barnacle. She pressed her breasts against my arm so hard I’m surprised they didn’t leave an imprint. Could bounce a quarter off the damn things. She actually crawled onto my lap a few times, and wouldn’t even let me pee alone. She gave up doing her little stripper moves when we danced after the twentieth time I ‘accidentally’ stomped her foot, though. I might have forgiven him for that someday. No, it was the things she kept telling me she wanted to do later and the gymnastics I had to do to avoid her goodnight kiss that earn him the slow, painful death. I didn’t even know what most of the stuff was and I’ve heard about some very odd practices over the years at the store. I made the mistake of asking her about a couple things. She had some very sick ideas about playing dress up. She wanted to play cowgirl and horse -- and I was to be the wild stallion she ‘tamed’. That’s the clean version; she explained just exactly what that would entail in excruciating detail. Let’s just say I really hope she meant centimeters, not inches, when she was telling me the dimensions of some of the equipment involved. I politely told her I wasn’t into anything like that and I didn’t think we were compatible. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Then I made the mistake of going to the bathroom. She followed me. Okay, picture this: Small two stall bathroom. I’m backed into a corner in a failed attempt to avoid her. All 4’10”, 100 pounds of her is climbing me like Everest and I’m chanting “No means no!” as I frantically try to peel her off me and avoid her lips without hurting her. Thank God it’s a busy bar. I managed to remain unkissed and ungroped. I was kinda freaked at the time, but in retrospect it was kinda funny. I gave up on being nice then. I told her flat out I didn’t want to see her again. Ever. Don’t call me, don’t even wave to me on the street. Ugh. I don’t think it sank in. I’m such a damned idiot.

Clara

Clara --

Ooh, aren’t you a handsome devil? I can see why Mikki is so smitten; if I were her, I’d have been hanging all over you too. It’s a marking your territory thing. Much more dignified than pissing on your date and easier to do in pants. However, kinky suggestions on the first date are just in bad taste. I can see how she might not have gotten a clue -- she might’ve just mistaken politeness for interest and the stomping as bad dancing. If you asked questions, she might’ve thought you were asking from more than strictly horrified clarification. However, once you said you weren’t into those sort of things, she should’ve gotten a clue and backed off.

Okay, now that I’ve been nice, she sounds like a total freak and you’re better off staying far, far away from her and Eric must die. I can’t believe she tried to kiss you after you told her you didn’t want to see her again! Are you okay, hon? I’ve had to fend off far too many people to find it funny at all. But if you’re all right, I’m curious about what else she suggested. You can tell me. I’m a musician; I’ve been to some wild parties (some of them I even remember). I might’ve seen it done or heard about it. Lisa is pretty kinky and loves to share details I really don’t want to know. The more I know, the better I can help you plan his death.

Gail

Gail --

It’s just the suit; I’m not especially attractive really. You probably just need glasses. I think I’ll be okay. I could’ve gotten away in about a second if I hadn’t been trying to be gentle, so I’m not too traumatized. But I’m never doing anything like that again. No more pity dates or blind dates or dates at all unless I know the person well. Eric wanted me to tell him everything too. So I did. In Technicolor detail. Watching him gag was well worth it. He can’t handle certain terms for female body parts, I believe I’ve mentioned. If you want to be helpful, you can ask him to tell you. It’ll make him miserable, which he deserves. Let’s just say she has very varied fetishes and loves animals, stuffed or otherwise. Though there were a couple things that might be interesting to try with someone else someday. I should go hold Eric’s hand; he’s still rearranging the ol’ internal pantry.

Clara

Clara -

There’s nothing wrong with my vision and it wasn’t just the suit. You’re gorgeous; deal with it. Okay, concerned email sent off to Eric **g**. I’m always happy to help with fiendish plans. I’m really sorry your date wasn’t a success. Someday you’ll find a woman who appreciates you who isn’t a freak.

Okay, comic relief time. I’m sending you a copy of the picture of me and gorilla girl. It’s probably the most unattractive photo of me in existence, but it’s too funny to keep to myself. Lisa threatened to post it anonymously to a gossip rag and say I’d accepted her proposal and we were to wed in a private ceremony at an undisclosed location and date. Meanie. I think she’s been talking to Eric **g**.

Gail

Gail --

You think I’m gorgeous? Now I know you need glasses. But it makes a nice change from the comments I usually get. Hehehe… you had Eric typing and spring cleaning his gizzard all morning. You are so evil. I knew there was a reason I liked you.

Work has been crazy. I’m surrounded by freaks. They’re all coming in wanting creepy things. Well, that’s not very nice of me. What they want to buy isn’t creepy, just not mainstream, and that doesn’t make them freaks. Wanting to do it with farm animals in the middle of the store makes them freaks. Guy wanted to know if we had a cow Kama Sutra. I’m not joking. He had a livestock trailer with Arkansas plates filled with cows. Eric thinks I made it up because we’re always joking about anything strange happening in *Ar*kansas, not Kansas. But no, I’m dead serious… and so was he.

ROFLMAO -- I don’t know what was funnier, the look on your face or a gorilla suit with breast implants. That had to be something to see live. Though probably not as interesting as you doing the Ninja Guppy **g**. Hmm…I bet Eric would put one on…

Clara

Clara --

What do people usually say, hon? ROFLMAO! “Spring cleaning his gizzard?!” Where do you come up with these things? Okay, this bitch is seriously creepy. I really hope she’s going on fantasies, not actual experience. I didn’t know you could do that with a belt sander, let alone a squirrel, and I was much happier not knowing. Though the thing with the fireplace matches and marshmallows sounds rather intriguing, if painful if your partner’s hands aren’t perfectly steady. You can’t beat S’mores.

Oh my god! Cow Kama Sutra? Do you guys sell porn then?

Oh lord… He would do it too, wouldn’t he? Lisa would in a New York minute. If he does, you’re coming onstage to do the Ninja Guppy with me.

Nothing particularly interesting happening. Just work. I’ve written a few songs, but they suck.

Gail

Gail --

I have a very odd imagination and brothers -- we entertain ourselves now and then by competing to see who can name the most idioms for vomiting and who can come up with the weirdest one. Whoever put Mikki together definitely had some parts leftover. I don’t like marshmallows, but yeah that wasn’t as creepy at least.

Yeah, we have an erotica section -- magazines, books, and movies. We have some really cool customers to balance out the freaks. Like the old gentleman who was career military from a long line of career military and loves history. He served in World War II (with my grandpa), Korea, and trained recruits for Vietnam. I always take my break when he comes in and talk to him until it gets busy. He’s pretty spry, but lonely. His wife died a few years ago and his kids and grandkids all live on either coast. We talk about Grandpa sometimes -- he died before I was born.

Damn -- I have to go into work. I have to sort out some sort of delivery mishap.

Clara

Clara --

Hey, are you online? I’m unexpectedly free tonight. We were supposed to practice tomorrow’s set list and maybe work in some poker, but everyone else decided to go out drinking, and that’s not my thing any more. Want to IM or maybe I could call? I’d like to talk to you again. Email is good, but not quite the same. I’ll be around until 2am or so. Um, not sure what time zone though. I forget where we are.

Gail

Gail --

Yep, I’m around, so which ever you prefer. I took off early to go to some event in KC with Eric, but he flaked on me. You’re in Tucson. Hon, your website has a little map that shows where you are, for future reference.

Clara

Clara --

I don’t know why I’m writing… I just got off the phone with you. Sorry for the swearing -- I should know better than to try to be funny. I can’t believe I transposed the numbers of your phone number. At least it was your mom and not some total stranger. You think she’ll ever forgive me? Thanks for keeping me company anyway. I’d forgotten how nice your accent is. Yes, you do so have one **g**. I’m sorry about the sound effects -- Lisa usually doesn’t bring her nighters here. I’m going to curl up in the passenger seat and put in some ear plugs and hope it helps enough I can sleep.

Gail

Gail --

It was funny. She cracked up when I explained the joke. She’s not mad at you. She’s mad at me for not telling her about you. It never occurred to me. I never talk to her about anyone but Eric. Now my whole family is down here, listening to all your CDs in order, asking Eric about you guys. Apparently I don’t know how to gossip. Eric’s boyfriend dumped him the night you called -- that’s why he flaked. He’s living with me now.

Clara

Clara --

I’m not sure if I should be pleased or not that you don’t find me any more interesting than anyone else. I thought I was kinda interesting as a person.

Lisa missed sound check today. They were still at it at 9 when I gave up trying to sleep and hiked to a diner for coffee. Lots of coffee. I’m going to kill her as soon as I can keep my eyes open long enough. I’m too damn old for this shit. I have to go on in about five minutes. Wish me luck.

Gail

Gail --

Aw, poor baby. I find you very interesting, just ’cause you’re you. What’s not to like? You’re cute, funny, have two X-chromosomes. That’s one up on Eric right there. Feel better yet? I wrote another Ninja Guppy story. I think you’ll like it . Jesus… that’s so inconsiderate. Can’t you guys afford a motel room?

Clara

Clara --

You think I’m cute? **Preens** How come I’m only just finding this out? “I don’t care what you do for a living, but *damn* you’re hot.” Is that too much to ask? A woman likes to hear these things. Am I cuter than Eric? Oh my God! You are so mean! Making fun of me like that. I’d cry if I didn’t know you thought I was cute **g**. Are you blushing yet? Gail

Gail --

Ah, right. See why I’m single? You’re a million times cuter than Eric. I was blushing badly and Eric investigated. He couldn’t believe it either, so as penance, I’ve been ordered to tell you how I discovered y’all. I happened to channel surf onto a talk show in the summer of 2000 while I was waiting for Eric. You were just starting to sing “Where Are You, Angeline?” I liked the song, but I was mostly, uh, checking you out. I didn’t even know Lisa was there ’til after the commercial. You were wearing this blue-green silk shirt that -- just wow. There. Now I’m really blushing. Do you feel better now?

Gail --

I’m so sorry…Eric hit send before I could hit delete. Ignore my previous email. Please. He must die. Again. I’ll write more later… Gotta got to work.

Clara

Clara --

Sorry, I read the first before I saw the second. Don’t be sorry -- I’ve wondered. I still have that shirt somewhere. I’ll hunt it up when I get back home. I bet I could find a similar one for St. Louis. My breasts look nicer in person, I think. I don’t mind standing behind something when I want to hold a conversation. You made Lisa pout. Usually women notice her first… or at least they notice her. The look on her face was priceless… I have pictures.

Oh, hey… Can you and Eric send copies of your drivers’ licenses to Rainbow? Marty said we need them for security reasons.

Gail

Gail --

Oh god… I’ll be studying my boots the whole time now. I couldn’t help it; the camera was pointed right at them… Sure, ostensibly at the guitar you were playing, but it was all a ploy… I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings. I’m sorry.

We sent ’em off today. Is there anything else we need to know? Gotta remember to leave my box cutter at home. I carry one in my back pocket for work every day. I somehow managed to stab myself in the ass with it today -- no clue what happened. Do you know how hard it is to drive with a puncture wound in your ass? Let alone do it casually? You can either look cool or walk around half naked holding a bloody shirt against your ass; it’s impossible to do both at the same time. It was one of my good white shirts, too. I’ll let you imagine the fun of explaining just what the nature of my injury was and the indignity of having stitches put in. The doc was cute, naturally, looked kinda like you actually. Nothing like stabbing yourself in the ass to impress a lady let me tell you. It’ll be just fine in a week -- no permanent damage and it’s not like anyone’s going to see the scar. Now I’m going to go gather the shreds of my dignity and lay down on my stomach and stoically ignore Eric’s offers to get someone to kiss it and make it better for me.

Clara

Clara --

Sure, Excalibur is mesmerizing **rolls eyes**. Marty’s going to email you instructions after he gets back from his unpaid suspension. He ordered background checks on you. I’m sorry; I didn’t know until he told me you were “clean”. He’s always doing stuff we tell him not to. Okay, sometimes he’s right, but that’s not the point. I burned them unread. Oh you poor baby. That’s got to hurt like a son of a bitch. I’m trying not to laugh, but the way you describe it is hysterical. Are you sure you’re going to be all right? You know, I didn’t realize that you’d need to open boxes daily at a bookstore. What are you going to do with your forced vacation? And you’ll note I’m being nice and not commenting on the half-naked thing. Stitches in your ass are bad enough without me making you blush.

Gail

Gail --

You should’ve ordered background checks yourself. Sure, Eric and I aren’t criminals, but you didn’t know that. I really worry about your safety after all the stories you’ve told about people getting close to you who shouldn’t have. You have to be more careful. I’m glad Marty was thinking.

I laughed and it’s *my* ass. It does hurt, but I’m not taking off work. Too many obligations. Um, I have two jobs -- I also work at a liquor warehouse. I have to, if I’m going to put six kids through college *and* feed them. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I was kinda embarrassed. It’s such a white trash job. At least managing a bookstore is kinda cool, even if it pays less.

Clara

P.S. I was wearing an undershirt; I was perfectly well covered. I just don’t like to show my underwear in public.

Clara --

What kind of undershirt? T-shirt or wifebeater? I love a muscular woman in a wife beater and you look pretty built under that suit jacket. Hon, my dad worked two factory jobs and my mom cleaned houses and was a seamstress. We *were* poor white trash. Hell, my dad still works at a factory -- he won’t take money from me. If I was going to be poor, I wanted to be poor doing something I loved, so I ran off. You know I’m a high school drop out, an alcoholic, and basically homeless. We were lucky to earn enough to eat every day until we were 26. It took sheer luck to get to where we are today. Why would you think I’d look down on you at all, let alone for your employment? I wouldn’t care if you were unemployed and drank beer all day while surfing for porn.

Gail

Gail --

Okay, point taken. I was being an idiot and projecting my own feelings. I’m sorry. Jim (the next oldest at 20) got pulled over for DUI last night. He’d gone to a party -- in my truck -- instead of the errands he was supposed to be doing. He mouthed off to the cop who pulled him over and resisted arrest. Fortunately, the cop is a brother of a guy I work with and didn’t book him when he found out who Jim was. Jim passed the breathalyzer and hasn’t been in trouble before, so he was only given tickets for a few misdemeanors and released for me to deal with. The cop knew from his brother how well I can put the fear of god into a body. It cost me $2,000 to keep his ass out of jail. He wasn’t grateful. If the little bastard had to pull twenty hour shifts for a month to pay it off and still meet his other obligations, he’d think it was one hell of a big deal. I won’t have computer access, but I’ll have my cell. I’m off to get some sleep while I can. Hell begins tomorrow.

Clara

Clara --

Jesus H. Christ! I’ll kick his damn ass if I ever meet the kid. I’d offer to loan you the money, but I know the answer to that. The offer’s there if you decide to surprise me and not be stubborn. If you can’t make that concert, it’s okay. There are others fairly nearby and I can try to rush through a few things and cut out some time to come visit. If it’ll help cut your hours some, I’d be happy to. As a matter of fact, I’m doing that anyway. Sometimes, we have to do interviews and time is built into the schedule for that. If we get them done earlier, we can travel sooner and reach the next concert ahead of schedule. Or we don’t have to leave so soon to make the next one. If you make it, then we’ll just have more time to visit. No one should have to work that hard for someone else’s stupidity. I would definitely make the boy get a job… He has too much free time. I’d at least make him work all summer and pay you back every single cent, plus interest. Maybe you could arrange a visit to your job and show him exactly what you have to do to earn that money he so casually threw away. Speaking of jobs, I’d better go do mine.

Gail

Gail --

God that was a bitch. Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got my own two hands and a strong back; I can make my own way. I’m exhausted, but a little a head, so I’m taking the whole friggin’ week off. I damn well deserve it. More time would be great, but the concert’s cool enough. Though if you want to wear a nice tight shirt… **g** I’m trying to get Mom to make him get a summer job. I’m not busting my ass to raise hooligans. She’s not convinced it won’t interfere with his studies. He’s currently grounded ’til Hell freezes over and he’s not driving ’til it thaws out again. I’m off to bed -- gotta go to work in about three hours.

Clara

Clara --

I bet; I can’t even imagine twenty hours of heavy lifting. I’m glad you’re taking a week off. You definitely deserve it. If you wear your wifebeater, I’ll wear anything you like **g**. I need something to look forward to too, you know. He’s just lucky he’s not my kid. I’d be doing 25 to life along about now. Lisa and I were pretty wild and did some damn stupid shit, but we were never *that* friggin’ stupid. If we drank, we just passed out in the back of the van. What was his excuse, anyway?

Gail

Gail --

Eric’s packing my clothes and he promises cardiac arrest. If you have any compassion, you won’t request anything girly. He’ll do it.

Jim claims he didn’t drink; someone spit beer in his face and washed out a contact. He was driving erratically because he couldn’t see normally. He thought no one could pick him up and his friends *were* drinking, so it was drive home or spend the night with the partiers. He *is* missing a contact, and that friend is weird enough it’s plausible -- that’s why Jim’s not allowed over there. I only let him keep the truck because he was going to study at another friend’s. He’s doing community service projects on weekends until he moves out or I quit being pissed. He’s not driving until he can afford his own insurance and car. My boss at the warehouse got him a job at a grocery distribution center for the summers. I’m determined to make sure he damn well learns his lesson. I’m not putting up with that shit with him again or with any of the other kids. This was his one and only get out of jail card.

Clara

Clara --

Commencing to suck up to Eric **g**. What will you give me to tell him I love the ultra butch look?

Jesus, give the boy points for originality. That sounds like a good plan, though you might want to give him some freedom or he might rebel even worse. Your boss at the warehouse sounds like a great guy.

Oh, my god! Jolene of Afternoon with Jolene has asked us to come on her show! This weekend! *Two* numbers *and* an interview! I’m a huge fan. We have mutual friends and kinda know each other, but I never thought we’d be asked. I’ll find out when it airs for you. Unfortunately, it requires a shopping trip. I hate shopping.

Gail

Gail --

What do you want? I’ll do anything. He’s looking at skirt patterns online. Skirts!

He’s my godfather and Dad’s best friend. When we were little, he’d dress up like Santa every Christmas and get ‘stuck’ in the chimney. He has a little horse and dairy farm. He’d take us on rides in a sideless wagon and pretend we were too fat for the ‘reindeer’ to lift so we couldn’t fly that year. He and his wife couldn’t have kids of their own, so they kinda adopted us.

Oh my God! We tape the show religiously! I am now officially and seriously impressed. Eric says people would sell their grandmothers to be asked on and tickets are virtually impossible to get. I definitely want to know when it’s on so I can be sure to be home. I’ll be paying strict attention to everything but your chest. Now that we’re friends, it’s not the same.

Now for news of the terminally dense -- Mikki called and asked me out last night. I was about to tell her where she could go and how to get there, but Eric grabbed the phone and did it for me. Much more thoroughly, too. He was seriously pissed. I love that boy. We went for a drive and listened to a legally downloaded CD of some of your ballads. You have a very soothing voice.

Oh, yeah, in case you’ve been wondering, my ass healed fine. The nurse said I have a scar, but I can’t see it in the mirror, no matter how I contort myself.

Clara

Clara --

I’ll be happy check out your scar and report on its coolness **g**.

Oh wow, that sounds so cool! I would’ve loved something like that when I was a kid. Hell, I’d like that *now*.

I can’t believe it -- I’ve finally impressed you? The platinum records and the Grammies weren’t enough? I had the wrong day -- it’s next Saturday. Want to come and bring Eric and the family? We’re given ten tickets for family and otherwise they’ll go to waste. It’d rock to have someone there. I can make the arrangements through Rainbow and the plane fare won’t be too much.

Jesus H. Christ! What a stupid bitch! How much clearer could you have made it you weren’t at all interested? I’m glad I could help you feel better. Can I call you later to make *me* feel better?

Gail

Gail --

Shit, we’d love to go, but I can’t. Some sports thing is going on at the college Saturday and everyone is going -- including the boss. I’ll be running the whole damn place alone for about six hours. I’ve never asked anyone to switch before, and I’ve covered for every last one of ’em dozens of times just because they fucking don’t feel like coming in. I have a once in a lifetime chance to do something cool (I said I won tickets online) and not a single goddamn one will cover for me! Fucking worthless assholes! If I didn’t need the health coverage, I’d fucking quit today. I’ve asked for maybe five days off in the nine years I’ve worked here. The boss won’t make anyone switch either. Goddamn asshole; the place would’ve closed eight years ago if I didn’t run the fucking place for his ignorant ass. No one else will go if I don’t. I tried to talk them into it, but they stubbornly insist it wouldn’t be fair.

I’m so busy being pissed off, I can’t spare much thought for her. But, yeah, she’s dumber than a pickpocket at a policeman’s ball, that’s for sure. You can call me any time. I’m rarely so busy I can’t take a few minutes to talk. I don’t go in for a couple hours. Call away.

Clara

Clara --

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I can’t believe it! I thought *I* worked for some heartless bastards, but that’s ridiculous! We’ll just turn on the charm so we get asked back. If any of them change their minds, just let me know.

I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll call in a little bit; I have to give some local newspaper an interview first. Some days I really hate my job. But at least I’m kinda my own boss.

Gail

Gail --

I laid down the law -- if I don’t get my vacation, I’m *gone*. My boss agreed. If anyone can do it, it’d be you two.

Ooh, thank you! Eric has been on the phone for three hours having just slightly too loud phone sex with some guy with a very kinky imagination -- I think they met online. It’s been driving me nuts, but we have a rule that whoever gets the phone first can talk as long as they want unless the other person is expecting an extremely important call. You count. I know you could call my cell, but if I have to listen to any more talk of penises, I’m going to use my box cutter on someone’s. Though to be fair, I don’t think he realizes I’m home. I arrived while he was… distracted. I’d better go tell him before he gets… distracted… again.

Your new second-best friend,

Clara

Clara --

I didn’t think you’d be able to come, but I figured asking wouldn’t do any harm. It’d have sucked to find out later you were hoping to be asked and I hadn’t. I’m really sorry it worked out like it did.

Aw, hell, honey, I’m so sorry I got held up and missed you. Stupid bitch from the something-or-other Sun kept me on the damn line forever. She always stopped just shy of being offensive enough to hang up on without pissing off Marty and getting bad press. She was flirting and asking all sorts of personal questions. Unfortunately, *I* can’t make up a pretend girlfriend. Stupid bitch probably would’ve printed that I had to rush off to rendezvous with a pack of ex cons or something. Then again, she still will ’cause she’s pissed I turned her down for several offers of varying degrees of obscenity. I’m not entirely sure all of them were even physically possible and I have no idea where she was going to get the yak. Do they even have those in zoos? I’m not entirely sure what the heck a yak is. Is it one of those camel type things? I’ve always wondered, but it’s not one of those questions you can ask without feeling stupid. I have her number; next time Mikki calls, why don’t you give it to her? One of them can road trip. They’d be perfect together. I have to go to work now, but you work tonight, right? Can I call you after I’m finished? You should be on your lunch break then.

Gail

Gail --

You know me so well. I’d sit and watch paint dry if you asked me and there was any way I could make it. Gave me the warm fuzzies when you asked. I won’t even ask Eric if I can play too. Fortunately, he’s used to me and usually thinks to ask. It’s on my list of neuroses to work on. It’s a wonder a prize like me is single, huh?

It’s okay… I figured it was something like that. I’m the last person to get upset because you had to work. I know your schedule is by necessity pretty erratic. But if I ever meet her, I’ll beat her up for you. That’s just sick and wrong. You know, I’m not really sure what a yak is either. I think it’s something like a cow, but I’m probably wrong. You can call me if you want, but you don’t have to make it up to me. But give me that number; those bitches deserve each other.

Clara

Clara --

Really? You’d be content to just sit and do absolutely nothing if I were there? Don’t get rid of *all* your neuroses -- they’re part of your charm. I have no idea why you’re still single except every other woman in Kansas is stupid.

Right. You have the strongest work ethic of anyone I’ve ever met with the possible exception of my parents. I thought you might still be hurt even if you understood. I would be. I’m just selfish… I was really looking forward to it. I need my Clara-fix.

Gail

Gail --

Hell yeah. I love to just sit and think, especially in nature. Eric and I sit and just listen to music or read together all the time. You don’t have to talk to feel close to someone. Being together is enough. You hear more in silence than in noise.

I’m glad I was able to give you a fix. I love emailing you, but it’s always nice to hear your voice. Have I mentioned I really, really like your accent? It was well worth the teasing I got from the boys. Sorry again about Paul. Since Daddy died, he thinks it’s his place to stand in for him. Thus the Inquisition. He’s actually slightly bigger than I am, so I couldn’t get the phone away from him. Judging from how you were laughing, it didn’t bother you, but still… I can’t believe he made me go back to work while he talked to you! I still had fifteen whole minutes of break left! Then he wouldn’t even tell me anything. He’s such a bully **scowls**.

Clara

Clara --

What will you give me to tell you what Paul said? He had some interesting stories. Why didn’t you invite me his Fourth of July barbeque? Papa Paul had to tell me about it and that attendance was mandatory for serious girlfriends. I would’ve missed it and made him mad. Be expecting a call from my daddy any day now. Fair is fair. Did I mention he and Mama are coming the Fourth too?

I’ve written some of my best songs by star shine. It’s my wondering time. Sometimes Lisa and I will just sit and write and not talk, but she’s more of an action kinda girl. I’ve never found anyone who understands the value of silence before. Maybe we can find a tree and sit outside for a while after the concert?

Speaking of concerts, they don’t sing themselves, so I suppose I’d better go earn my pay.

Gail

Gail --

Oh god… You are enjoying yourself *way* too much. Please tell me you’re joking about your dad. I can’t talk to your dad! I’ll pass out, I swear. Oh god. I’m going to throw up right in his ear. Oh god. I’m going to be dead before the concert… I’m going to vomit something vital and die. It could happen! I saw it on TV.

Clara

Clara --

Aw, hell, I’m really sorry. Are ya gonna be mad forever? I tried calling, but whoever answered hung up on me and your cell is off. I thought you’d realize I was teasing. Honest -- I wouldn’t have if I’d realized you’d freak. I wrote you a song. It kinda sucks but I’ll play it for you if you’ll give me another chance.

Gail

Gail --

I didn’t hang up on you -- you called while I was in the shower and my hands were soapy and I dropped the phone. No one was on the line when I picked it up. I figured if it were anything important they’d call back. I was charging my cell. I was never mad. I just… well, um, you were talking about Paul thinking you were -- and your dad thought I was -- and I’ve never had to -- and I just panicked. Aw, you wrote me a song? That’s so sweet. Damn, you must really be sorry -- I just had a delivery. The roses are lovely, and I love the teddy bear. Unnecessary, but thank you. Just call me and sing your song and we can get the drama over with. And you can tell me what Paul said **g**.

Clara

P.S. You, me, and a tree have a date after the concert. Well, not a date -- oh hell, you know what I meant.

Clara --

Whew. I’m sorry. Tour really wears me down and wreaks havoc on my emotions. I don’t really have many friends and thinking I’d fucked things up with you really freaked me out. I’m too old for this crap. Touring most of the year, I mean. I need a long break to recharge. This pace is just killing me. I think I’ll talk to Lisa about skipping recording this year and touring less next year. I’m glad you liked my present. It’s okay to call later?

Gail

Gail --

Aw, just relax, hon. We’re okay. I think that’d be wise, at least taking a little time out to recharge at the Fortress of Solitude or wherever you go to relax. I work mighty damn hard, but if I don’t show up, hundreds of people aren’t disappointed and god only knows how many depend on you more directly. I only have eight people I have to worry about. Anyone would be overstressed in your situation. Sometimes you have to put your own needs before your responsibilities. Otherwise, you get so overwhelmed you’re no good to anyone. Of course I loved the flowers and teddy -- I’ve never gotten a present from a girl before, let alone flowers. I haven’t had a teddy bear since I was five… I was too big after that.

Clara

Clara --

You’re really good at making me feel better. Lots of people only put out a CD every three or four years and *their* fans survive. I think it’d help a lot just not to do it all in one lump. I need to talk to Lisa about it. Damn. I would’ve gotten something special if I’d known you’d never gotten any before. You’re never too big for a teddy bear. I still cuddle with one at night sometimes if I’m feeling especially lonely.

Jolene had to reschedule. We’re supposed to fly out the day after the St. Louis concert for the taping. Since you guys are off anyway, wanna come? It’d only cost you airfare. They always book us two rooms and we always end up sleeping in the same one anyway. You and Eric could share the other and it wouldn’t cost anyone any extra, I promise. Let me know and I’ll have Marty make the arrangements.

Gail

Gail --

Exactly. I think those changes are very reasonable and allow everyone to win. I took my own advice. I’ve allowed Eric to contribute half his salary to the expenses. So starting today, I’ve cut down to 40 hours a week at the store. I picked up an extra shift at the warehouse, but I’ve cut an hour off my regular shifts there. Jim wants me to take a day off this summer since he’ll be working. What would I do with two days off every week? I haven’t had that much free time since I was 15.

Eric says fuck the Ozarks. We’re in. Let us know how much our share is. I can’t believe it’s next month. It seems like we just met yesterday, but it also feels like we’ve been friends forever. Meanwhile, I’m off to sleep an extra hour.

Clara

Clara --

Lisa agrees -- we’re not recording this year; maybe next year. We’ve decided on six weeks on, six weeks off. Eric hasn’t been paying rent or anything? Damn. Can I be your best friend? Lisa made me pony up last year when I stayed with her two days while my place was being fumigated. No wonder he never smacks you. You know, the scary thing is I don’t think you’re joking. You really wouldn’t know what to do with two days off. I’ve always wondered how you manage to find time to get everything done. Do you actually sleep?

Really? Wow! That’s fantastic! I’ll tell Marty tomorrow. He’ll probably email you with the particulars. I can’t wait to meet you. And Eric, of course. I know. It’s cool, but weird. Are you sure you’re going to be all right with the crowds? Let me know what I can do to make it easier for you.

Gail

Gail --

That sounds really good. Six weeks on the road isn’t too bad and six weeks is long enough to get sick of not doing anything. Well, that’s what Eric says. I can’t imagine not working for six weeks *in* a year, let alone every six weeks. But I know I’m sick for liking to work. Admittedly, I hate working as much as I do. Twelve hours a day is enough for anyone. Dad was the same way. I don’t mind taking time off to do something specific, but don’t see the point in taking a day just to take a day. By not taking money I didn’t need, he can afford to go back to school next year. At this point, one more mouth to feed doesn’t make any difference. He threatened to move out, so I gave in. It just isn’t right to charge friends or family to live with you unless your situation is desperate. I don’t need much sleep -- three or four hours and I’m good to go. That leaves two or three hours for togetherness. I write and email at the store when it’s slow, and can write at the warehouse when it’s slow. I often print out your emails before work and compose long hand during the day and type it up later. Sundays are family days. I sleep about half of it and hang out with the family the rest. I can usually manage quality time with everyone. Mom and I talk out any problems that arose during the week and financial stuff. One or two Saturdays a month Eric and I go do something fun. I feel guilty if I’m not there when everyone needs me. You’ve noticed I’m pretty determined and failure really isn’t an option.

I’ll be all right. Eric has promised a hand to maim. Besides, I’ll be too busy listening to you to really notice the crowd, I bet.

Clara

Clara --

You are utterly amazing. I get cranky if I don’t get at least seven hours of sleep. Ah, right. Hopefully I’ll be babble-nervous and not mute-nervous. And I can always wear a tight shirt to mesmerize you too much to be scared **g**. Damn it, my interview’s been moved up; gotta go.

Gail

Gail --

No, I’m not. You’re the amazing one. Ooh, now *that* sounds like a plan. You going to let me squeeze them if I get scared? **g** Okay, now I know I need to go bed. I was swamped at both jobs.

Clara

Clara --

Quit being stubborn and take a damn compliment. Oh my god -- you finally did it -- I’m blushing furiously. So… have you guys heard from Marty? He said he mailed you some information. Absolutely nothing going on. Time is moving backward I swear.

Gail

Gail --

Yes, ma’am. Shutting up. Yes! Hehe… I knew I’d get back at you eventually. Don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t answer me. Yeah, Eric called me at work to tell me. I had him open it before he died of excitement. We got two first class airline tickets, a list of emergency numbers, a ‘don’t do or die’ list, two VIP unrestricted access passes, and a letter. Apparently, the airline upgraded us free to kiss up and we only owe coach fare. It’s not nearly as much as I thought it would be. Are you sure he has the right price? Eric mailed off a check -- I let him pay the whole thing. Eric said he gave us your personal cell phone number like he was just reminding us what it was. Are you sure he should be giving out information like that? Anyone could’ve opened it.

Clara

Clara --

Lol. I plead the Fifth **g**. Nope, it’s just a perk of traveling with us. Rainbow does a lot of flying. Damn, I didn’t give you my number? I thought you never called because you didn’t want to bother me or couldn’t afford long distance charges. Huh. It must’ve been one of those things I meant to do but forgot. Be sure to call if you get held up or anything.

Gail

Gail --

Ah, that makes sense. I should’ve sprung for it anyway since I’m so big. Nope, I assumed you didn’t know me well enough yet. I never call anybody, but I would’ve liked to call you a few times. You should know by now, I’d spend my last dime on you without a single regret.

Clara

Clara --

You’re so sweet. The longer I know you, the less I understand why you’re single. Even as little as you’re home, I don’t know why nobody’s snapped you up. Don’t they know a precious commodity when they see it?

Are you getting nervous? I’m mostly excited, but nervous too. Lisa’s got an idea I can’t disabuse her of that you probably won’t like, and she’s going to rag you hard. Forgive her, she only teases people she likes. She, um, thinks you’re my, um, girlfriend. I’ve tried to tell her different, but she just laughs and says, “I think the lady doth protest too much.”

Gail

Gail --

You think that now; maybe you’ll see why when we meet. I think I intimidate women unintentionally. Or I misjudge my best lines.

Best friends -- can’t live without ’em, but they make you wish you could. Eric is the same way. Too bad one of them isn’t the opposite sex; they’d be a great couple. He thinks you’re interested and I’m a chicken for not asking you. So now I am. Are you? It’s okay either way; I’ll always be your friend and I still want to meet at the end of the month, regardless.

Clara

Clara --

Yep, the women in Kansas are definitely idiots. You’re just a big teddy bear. You make me think, too. I’ve realized I’ve been in a rut and I don’t enjoy life like I used to. Somewhere along the way, my passion turned into a job. I’m rediscovering myself and music. I remember lecturing you about living your dreams, feeling just a little sorry for you because you had gotten ‘stuck’ in duty and never had the chance to live yours. It hadn’t been easy and maybe it sucked once I got it, but at least I’d lived mine, right? It suddenly occurred to me I hadn’t. Not really. But you have, haven’t you? The life you have, it’s your dream, isn’t it? Our best friends are right, but it’ll never work between us, will it? Your life is firmly rooted there and mine is on the road. I’m not sure even your determination would be enough. You’d get tired of me never being home or I would get tired of never seeing you when I was home. We’d both have to compromise and I don’t know if there’s a way to balance both our needs. If there were nothing standing in the way, though, I’d snap you up so quick your head would spin. You’re nearly my perfect woman.

Gail

Gail --

Well, usually, but don’t tell the boys that. Since I’ve met you, I’ve learned I can live a little for myself without the world coming to an end. God, my life isn’t my dream. There’s just no one else to do everything. Dad was never home to help, so I had to. When he died, he only left debt. He worked long hours, but he spent more than he earned. He worked himself to death -- a massive heart attack at fifty -- on the job. He had to drop out of school in tenth grade to work to help raise *his* siblings. All he could do was low paid menial labor. The shame and drudgery drove him to drink. I wanted to go to college and never end up like my dad or cause my kids to. Mom had a heart attack when she heard about Dad’s. She’s never fully recovered and can’t work much. Someone had to work and feed those kids and there was no one else. I’ve done my best to give them a good life and the opportunities I didn’t have. I’ve been daddy, mother, sister, and friend to them as best as I could. When they’re all out of college, I can live for me. Maybe I’ll be able to go to college myself. Paul managed to swing better medical coverage, so I quit the store. I’ve been tired of being treated like shit, but I had to have health insurance. I’m working full time at the warehouse. It pays much better, so I’m working fewer hours. Paul likes you, so he’ll let me off work to go see you if you ask. If you want to work on getting to know each other better and maybe working toward more. It’s okay if you don’t. Email and phone calls don’t necessarily make a good strong foundation for a relationship, but if we want it, it’ll happen. But hell, maybe we won’t get along in person. I’ll be content with the status quo.

Clara

Clara --

Damn. You hide it so well; I never would’ve guessed you were unhappy. What would you do if you could do anything and not have to worry about money? You’re right… Why don’t we hang out together when we can and see how or if it goes? We might not like each other on prolonged exposure. I’d like to spend part of my breaks there and maybe you could spend a few weekends with me on tour or at my place back east. If we timed it right, we could spend a weekend or two a month together when I’m on tour without you missing much work. We could talk on the phone more too. How does that sound? Just see if anything’s really there or we’re just romanticizing. You want to tell Lisa and Eric we’ve talked? Shit, there’s another problem -- I’m a pretty public figure. Sooner or later the media would find out about us. You’d get enough publicity as my friend. Damn… I have to go do sound check.

Gail

Gail --

Paul asked me if I had any interest in owning the warehouse someday. He’s not sick or ready to retire, but he’s in his fifties and wants to start training a replacement. For now, I’d be a supervisor and help with paper work. I’d be making much better money, so I could definitely afford a few weekends off. It’s not my dream job, but it’s a good, steady living that will allow me to do right by my family and myself. I’d love to run a big animal shelter out in the country, do some farming. I’d get several acres with a big pond or two stocked with fish and a creek running through a big patch of woods. I’d like it if you’d spend time here. I could work fewer hours, maybe even take time off. You could even come in with me. If the media finds out, they find out. I’ll deal. One more week. I’m not as nervous now that my secret is out. I’ll probably be a basket case on the day, though. When should we spring the news on Eric and Lisa?

Clara

Clara --

Go for it! It’d be a great business to pass on to your own kids. Wow, that sounds fantastic. Could you find country like that within commuting distance of the warehouse? I’d like to buy a place in Kansas, preferably just like you described. Lisa would love to hang out at the warehouse. She’s a binge alcoholic, but it’s hard to think of her that way. She only drinks after shows and on poker nights, but she overdoes it. I’m a recovered alcoholic myself. It’s hard not to be in this business. Are we friends open to the possibility of more or dating or what? We could let them ‘catch’ us in a compromising position **g**. Shit, she’s coming. Gotta go.

Gail

Gail --

I’ll have put in nineteen years of child raising by the time the last one’s through college. That’s enough. I’ll pass it on to a niece or nephew. I’ll set Eric looking, if you’re sure you want to settle here. I rarely drink, though in moderation, I have nothing against it. Dad went overboard and neglected his responsibilities. Eric drinks too often, but he never neglects anything, so I don’t say anything. He loves to pick me up at work. I bring home damaged stuff sometimes. Couple times a month, the boys have a “dropped” box party on a Friday night. Occasionally, I stay and bunk with Paul. I’ll take Lisa to one someday. You’re the one with experience. What do you think? Um, how ‘compromising’?

Clara

Clara --

I don’t blame you. Nieces and nephews are great. You can spoil them, teach them bad habits, and send them home. Well, I decided a place in a central location would be a good investment. I can come home when I have time between concerts, and with KCI being nearby, I can fly anywhere in the country in a few hours. Being close to you is just gravy. At least, that’s what I told my accountant. I thought a PG peck goodnight, but never mind. I’m sorry. LOL if you do that, Lisa will be your best friend forever. The only thing she likes better than a drink is a free drink. Lisa just informed me I must go have a drink after work tonight. Joy. Well, drinking did affect work once when we were young and stupid, but trust me, one concert with a hangover is a very effective lesson. Three days. I can’t wait.

Gail

Gail --

Well, you’re welcome to stay here any time, but I understand the need for permanence. That’s why I’m renting to own our house. I’m slowly remodeling it. It *would* make an interesting way to make the announcement. I’ve never kissed a girl before, remember, so I’m nervous. Plus, while I’d love to change that with you, I don’t want to rush anything. I’m a forever kinda girl, and I want to be sure it’s you and not just the idea of you that I want before anything happens.

Clara

Clara --

You can do remodeling? Damn. You weren’t joking about being handy. I’ve been ordered to avoid carpentry of any sort. Jeez, like I’m the first person to try to nail my hand to the wall. Now I have to call Marty’s son every time I want to hang a picture or something comes loose. I only missed two concerts -- and I didn’t even really miss them; I just didn’t play the guitar.

I understand completely and that makes perfect sense. I won’t even try to hold your hand until you’re ready. Just so you know, sex isn’t really a big deal to me. I like it, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not the end all and be all of a relationship. I’m more into emotional connection. I promise I’ll never intentionally pressure you into -- or make you feel bad about not -- doing anything. Very few people are emotionally ready to just leap in the sexual pool. Most of us have to go in a toe at a time over a period of time to get used to the water. I have plenty of issues myself -- like alcohol and sex have always been far too interconnected. Never again; it won’t be like that with you… if there is a ‘with you’. (I reserve my right to use my feminine wiles to keep you from doing anything stupid drunk, though.) I can’t remember my first kiss without wincing. It was truly horrible; I threw up in her lap. First kisses and first bottles of whiskey should not be gotten out of the way at the same time. I was nervous as all get out and thought Southern Comfort would be… comforting. Um, no. I wish I had been too drunk to remember it, but alas no I couldn’t be that lucky. It does help me not be quite so scared of kissing someone again. I couldn’t possibly screw up any worse (though I was certainly in there trying for awhile in my youth) and I survived that. Is hugging okay? I’ve been looking forward to it, but I don’t want to overstep any boundaries.

Gail

Gail --

I thought you’d understand. I’m pretty sure I can handle anything G-rated, including hugging. I’m going to be really nervous and that always fucks things up, though. I know you’d never make me do anything. You couldn’t hide that kind of personality.

Paul made me start my vacation early so I could pack. Eric is handling it because I never know what I want to wear. My orders are to wash the truck even though it’s going to be dirty by the time we get there anyway. He’ll make me look like a dork if I don’t. We should be there by one or so. I’ll check my mail again probably so let us know if for some reason that doesn’t work. See you tomorrow.

Clara

Clara --

I’m really nervous too. Let me know if I do anything to make you uncomfortable, okay? I want to know what I shouldn’t do again. We don’t have to hug or anything. It’s just that I’m kinda touchy-feely with my friends. I don’t always stop and think that some people don’t like that. I can be extremely patient, and I’m perfectly willing to do anything to make you comfortable.

I hope he remembers I like the butch look and to pack your suits. I don’t understand the point in washing a car -- that’s what rain is for. We’re due to arrive sometime in the wee hours of morning I think. Before y’all anyway. I think Lisa’s going to drag Eric off to plot against us. She’s convinced I’m never going to make a move without help. I thought we should let them bond. If we’re going to spend a lot of time together, our best friends should get along.

Gail

To Be Continued....

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