So she was really really drunk. She found her way backstage at Fords Club in Widnes, UK. She had a copy of my "Unknown" CD in her hand. She wanted autographs... from anybody. Me, the band, the soundcrew, guys moving PA equipment, the club's DJ, anybody. Then she asks where will we be playing the following evening. I hear someone say, "The Gypsy's Tent, in Bolton." She then turns to me, looks me in the eye, and begins to babble about how careful I should be with "me" guitars and such, 'cause those gypsies will "rob you blind!" Wow, that's a lot of alcohol consumption. I know we're not big time, but did she really actually think I was playing in a tent for nomads? I just smiled and said I'd be careful. Why bother? Let her ride her buzz. Take care. Later, Butch