i wasn't in the most professional outfit when we first met. Kind of revealing, but hey, it was a basement show.

We talked for a moment about the music, but he had to rush back out onto that stage, to play his bass. That little punk monster being let out on that hard pavement.

My friend knew him, and I got his number. And well, one thing led to another. And I'll tell you this, hes a good musician, but he doesn't play around like any old stand up guy.

Especially as he grabbed my waist, asking if i had ever tried this position. Jesus, what's a person to do?

But I couldn't stop thinking about that little meet-cute, in the back of the basement. Where he bumped into me in his little white jean jacket.

"Shit, fuck, sorry!"