He thought of horrid fatigue ridden hangovers after the post-show partying, hangovers that could only be driven back by the hair of the dog, by a few ...ore drinks, by a few lines, a few hits. He thought of Mindy and the raw sexual infatuation she still invoked in him to this day, of the sweltering, drug-like allure of being with her, of touching her, of knowing that she wanted him to touch her, that she craved him as he craved her, of the glorious knowledge that he was fucking a woman that most. ."?But now they were in the village. A couple of kids, dressed much as Chip had once done, in baggy jeans, obscene T-shirts and facial piercings, lounged with their skateboards in the town square. They looked curiously at the trim German youth in his turtleneck and khakis, and the odd duck next to him wearing the schoolboy outfit reminiscent of Angus Young of "AC/DC".?"What're you dressed like that for, faggot?" One of the young men shouted this out, while massaging his crotch area. "This ain't. More

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