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Remember the place that used to be on Jefferson, there where it makes that curve. It was a club. Hi-Something. Hi-Hat. That was it. The Hi-Hat. 

We went there all the time. Or some people did. I’m not a barfly. I don’t hang out in bars. I was there a few times. That’s all I’m saying. 

Anyway. Remember that girl, she was about my height I guess. Dark blonde hair, she wore it so it kind of poofed around her face. Like mine, sort of. 

She always wore that heavy black eyeliner. Black black. I wear brown black, it’s a little more sophisticated. She just looked slutty. I don’t mean that in a bad way. 

But anyhow. She had a boyfriend, he was in that band, they played all the time at the Hi-Hat. The Dollbusters. And him and what’s-her-face, I mean a day didn’t go by they weren’t screaming like banshees at each other. 

I know. That sounds like Robert. Me and Robert. We had our problems. He had problems. I had him. 

But it wasn’t me.

Let me finish. 

So Terry was there, and the Dollbusters were at the end of their last set. He was an older guy. Terry I mean, in his late forties. Early fifties. She was 19. What’s-her-name, the one I’m talking about. The slutty-looking girl.

Anyway, so they ended the set with “I Killed Daddy for You”, and she came flying out of the bathroom—the men’s bathroom—hair in her mouth, crying and waving her arms. Terry’s dead I killed him Terry’s dead. 

Terry was drinking Jolt cola and eating Dexedrine. A few days in the hospital and they sent him home, he was fine.

Anyway.

So what if it was.

Like you never had some old fart die on you while you were blowing him in the toilet

Yeah. Now I’ll tell one.