Would you ever be someone’s mistress?

It was a hot, hot, hot poor summer. I had recently shaved my head into a mohawk and in cut offs, wore a cut off shirt I made myself, hot pink bra and karate shoes and then I was off with my friends. Stoned out of our minds, we biked up and down the shore of the beach for miles, faster and faster until it was too much. We stripped to our underwear and got in the water.

After we put our clothes back on, we got the notion it was time for happy hour at our favorite German bar, big liter of Franciskaner and free popcorn.

So to recap: Stoned, sweaty, lake water, sand covered girl with a mohawk in home made cut offs goes to a nice German bar to get free food. Wasn’t exactly looking sexy, or even smelling nice.

We sit down and make banter with the bartender, an old friend of mine. He has about the best stasche I’ve ever seen, I always joke he can get people pregnant just by looking at them with it on.

We cheers our big frothy mugs, and start chatting with the couple next to us. They are in from out of town, Colorado, business normies, whatevers. Exchange of pleasantries, what do you do, oh you’re artists wow. The wife is funny. I don’t think much of it, and get back to talking to my friend. It took maybe 2 minutes.