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When I was in college, I worked at a concert club in Cleveland as a bar back and security guard. I was in charge of getting drinks for the band one night.
It happened to be the Village People.
Their door was locked and the Police man in the group was crying because 2 of the band members were having sex in the dressing room. I think it was the Indian and maybe the contruction worker? Not sure. Anyway, the Cowboy kept placing his drink orders with me, but I ain't no waiter, I just bring back a gang load of drinks and I'm done, they help themselves. But the Cowboy wanted a fruity drink with cherries and juices. I was nice enough to bring it to him, then he asked me to take him to his hotel after the show.
I ain't that nice!
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Still Ballin'
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