Drummer From Austin

He was a Pisces. He wasn't really my type. He was shy. He was kind. He seemed suspiciously normal. I partied with him in the suite he was sharing with his band mates at the Inn of the Hills in Kerrville, Texas. I caused a ruckus. The hotel manager banged on the door, told me to quiet the fuck down. After the manager left the lead singer told me to leave. I was too much trouble and I still had my clothes on.

I made out with the drummer in the swimming pool beneath the Hill Country stars. We were deep in the heart of Texas. We had the pool to ourselves. We had the world to ourselves. I was wearing my leopard print bra and matching thong. My legs were wrapped around the drummer's hips. My arms were wrapped around the drummer's neck. My tongue was in the drummer's mouth. It was a nice time for us, a time of mutual lust and not much conversation. Neither one of us had anything to say worth hearing.

Later I slept beside him in his bed in the room I had been too rowdy for. There wasn't any sex between us, just sleep. I left before he opened his eyes. My friend, an Aries waitress who had a threesome with the lead singer and the bass guitarist, gave me a note from the drummer later that day.

I had a great time! Call me the next time you're in Austin.

Signed with his name, address and phone number, none of which I remember, and the anarchy symbol, which I think is hilarious considering the fact that he was the drummer in a band that clearly did not know how to party.