Если я останусь

           Whenwetrick-or-treatedwithTeddy,myownneighborswho’dknownmeforyearsdidn’trecognizeme.Guyswho’dnevergivenmeasecondglancedidadoubletake.Andeverytimethathappened,IfeltalittlebitmoreliketheriskysexychickIwaspretendingtobe.Fakeittillyoumakeitactuallyworked.

           TheclubwhereShootingStarwasplayingwaspacked.Everyonewasincostume,mostofthegirlsinthekindsofracygetups—cl**vage-baringFrenchmaids,whip-wieldingdominatrixes,sluttyWizardofOzDorothyswithskirtshikeduptoshowtheirrubygarters—thatnormallymademefeellikeabigoaf.Ididn’tfeeloafishatallthatnight,evenifnobodyseemedtorecognizethatIwaswearingacostume.

           "Youweresupposedtodressup,"askeletonguychastisedmebeforeofferingmeabeer.

           "If**kingLOVEthosepants,"aflappergirlscreamedintomyear."DidyougettheminSeattle?"

           "Aren’tyouintheCrackHouseQuartet?"aguyinaHillaryClintonmaskaskedme,referringtosomehard-corebandthatAdamlovedandIhated.

           WhenShootingStarwenton,Ididn’tstaybackstage,whichiswhatInormallydid.BackstageIcouldsitonachairandhaveanuninterruptedviewandnothavetotalktoanybody.Thistime,Ilingeredoutbythebar,andthen,whentheflappergirlgrabbedme,Ijoinedherdancinginthemoshpit.

           I’dnevergoneintothemoshpitbefore.Ihadlittleinterestinrunningaroundincircleswhiledrunk,brawnyboysinleathertrodonmytoes.Buttonight,Itotallygotintoit.