by Crystal Achey

Created on: February 23, 2009

Happenstance: Part Deux ...

5. "Can't Help About The Shape I'm In, Can't Sing, I Ain't Pretty, And My Legs Are Thin. Don't Ask Me What I Think Of You, I'm Might Not Give The Answer That You Want Me To." ~ Fleetwood Mac

During my high school years, I was always best friends with the cutest guys. The Yin and the Yang of it all, is that, I was always the best friend, never the girlfriend. And for some reason, all the custest girls had a huge problem with this and this pattern seemed to follow me into adulthood, but, somewhere along the way I figured out that it was better to be the best friend, than the girl who got laid once or twice, then tossed aside. This knowledge served me well. Not to imply, by any means, that I did not sleep with my fair share of hot musicians, I just made it a point not to sleep with the rock stars, because I wanted to stay in the game of rock n roll. It wasn't easy, but, it was worth it. OK, the truth is, I slept with one rock star, but it took him 3 years to wear me down.

But this part of the story is not about that guy.

I'm a waitress at Rockers, the biggest rock bar in Phoenix, AZ. My roomate was bartender there. As a consequence, we had a lot of early morning parties. We lived in an upstairs/downstairs condo. Uspstairs was for snorting coke and smoking pot; downstairs was a drinking/gathereing space. At one point, we were out of alocohol and blow and the sun was coming up. My roomate went to bed and everyone left except for Glenn* and I. He was quietly strumming my guitar and we were speaking of nothing in particular, when I notice his eyes dart to my knees, down toward my ankle and rest on my feet.

He looked at me and said, "You know? Your legs are quite nice."

So I smiled wide and said, "Why Glenn, considering the competition in the room, I am so flattered." We laughted. He got up, went home and I went to bed, alone.

Let me tell you the coolest thing about Glenn Tipton. At a different early morning party at the condo, me and a few other people up in my room, are doing lines, and I hear someone playing my guitar.

I immediately say, "Excuse me.", put the straw down and headed for the stairwell. By the time I hit the first step, I was goin' off...

" I can't believe someone's rude enough to pick up someone elses guitar and start playing it...without permission!"

By the time I hit the fifth step, I could see who it was: Glenn, who immmediately stopped stopped mid chord, apologized and said, "May I?"

Here's where the cool part comes in: Glenn had

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