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'So what's new?' I asked Sally.
'I get band gigs on weekends,' he said. 'Weekdays I drive a school bus. It's not like the glory days when I was with the Lovelies, but it's pretty cool.'
'What's with the assault charge?'
'It's bogus, man. I was having a discussion with this dude and all of a sudden he started coming on to me. And I was “Hey, man, that's not where I live,” you know. I mean, okay, so I was wearing a dress, but that's my professional persona. Wearing a dress is my thing. It's my trademark now. Sure, I was playing support for a rap group, but people still expect me to be in a pretty dress. I'm Sally
Sweet, you know? I got a reputation.'
'I could see where it might be confusing,' Grandma said.
I was trying hard not to look appalled. 'So you hit him?'
'Only once... with my guitar. Knocked him on his keister.'
'Holy cow,' I said. 'Was he hurt bad?'
'No. But I broke his glasses. The guy was such a pussy. He started it all, and then he reported it to the police. He said I hit him for no reason. Called me a drugged-out guitar player.'
'Were you drugged out?'
'No way. Sure, I smoke weed between sets, but everybody knows weed doesn't count as drugs if you're a guitar player. And I'm real careful. I buy organic. I only do natural drugs, you know. It's okay if they're natural. Natural weed, natural 'shrooms..."
'I didn't know that,' Grandma said.
'It's a fact,' Sally told her. 'I think it might even be union rules that guitar players have to do weed between sets.'
'That makes sense,' Grandma said.
'Yeah,' I said, 'That would explain a lot.'
Sally was out of costume, wearing jeans and ratty sneakers and a faded Black Sabbath T-shirt. He was over six feet tall in flats and close to seven in heels. He had a large hook nose, and he had a lot of black hair... everywhere. He was an okay guy, but he was without a shadow of a doubt the ugliest drag queen in the tristate area. I couldn't imagine any man in his right mind coming on to
Sally.
'Why didn't you show up for your court date?' I asked Sally.
'I had to drive the little dudes. It was a school day. I take this job very seriously.'
'And you forgot?'
'Yeah,' he said. 'I fucking forgot.' He closed his eyes and smacked his head with the heel of his hand. 'Darn.' He was wearing a thick elastic band around his left wrist. He snapped the elastic against his wrist and yelped. 'Ow!'
Grandma and I both did raised eyebrows.
`I'm trying to quit cussing,' Sally said. 'The little dudes were getting detention for talking trash mouth after getting off my bus.
So my boss gave me this elastic band, and I have to snap it every t
ime I cuss.'
I looked down at his wrist. It was solid red welts. 'Maybe you should think about getting a different job.'
'No fucking way. Oh shit! Damn.'
Snap, snap, snap.
'That's gotta hurt,' Grandma said.
