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Stories I Dream: GROUPIE CHICK (Part II) By Valerie Markva Original Artwork by Valerie Markva..click the pic for a larger view The summer of 1998, a movie called Strangeland, written & directed by Dee Snyder of Twisted Sister came out. Snyder starred as 'Captain Howdy', a psycho killer that got his kicks from piercing his skin with hooks & hanging from the ceiling. The horror flick turned our stomachs, as we sat, deliciously scared; side-by-side in the dark watching and still we were able to devour a bowl of jumbo popcorn. Fast forwarding through the credits, suddenly Lisa began jumping up & down, her curly ponytail bobbing on top of her head. "Hey, there's videos at the end!" she shouted. "So don't choke yourself," I replied. Then there he was, on the blazing screen, commanding the microphone with effortless power. The one & only Bull god, the raunchy guy from Detroit Kid Rock. Lisa's eyes followed his every move, the sinewy muscles, the blonde energetic figure that flit curiously across our screen. In the dark, I rolled my eyes and made a silent prediction that soon came true. She'll say it started later, after she bought his album 'Devil Without a Cause', after she listened to those lyrics over & over. But I know the truth; it started back when she saw his video. It began when she handed me the bowl of popcorn and leaned close to the screen and turned up the volume. A few months later she sat on my bed flipping through the cover of his CD, then quietly remarked, "There's a lot of powerful stuff in these lyrics." "Beside getting drunk and laid all the time?" I asked, unable to conceal my skepticism. "Hell, yes, think about his message for a second. I mean he's really been pissed off, but he's doing something good with that anger. Sort of like a way to work all the BS in life," she said. Pretending t ignore her, thinking that I'd had enough of her dream speculations, I bent forward and inspected my chipped toenail polish. "Guess what his name is?" she asked. "Stop it, you're squealing! I hate it when you do that," I said. She flopped down on her back & sighed. "Bobby" she closed her eyes, possibly imagining what he looked like naked. "Here we go. I knew it. You've finally found the right guy, all because he's pissed off at the world," I said. She sat back up and smiled, her curls swimming around her face like many graceful sea creatures. "Maybe he is, maybe he isn't," she said. "What difference does it make?" I asked. "He's obviously nothing like you. Tell me, where does this greasy ho-totin' guy fit in with your lifestyle?" "See, you haven't been listening. There's a lot more in his songs," she said. "It think he's a searcher like us." Sickening, those passionate eyes she flashed when she was trying to convince me. Then the end of our world. Tickets to his sold out show, and backstage passes won on the radio. Of course, she blamed it on Fate, it was meant to be - or wouldn't have happened so easily. It was good to see her so happy, then I thought about the 'Axl Tragedy', the picture she'd kept in a box at the back of her closet. After the concert she returned home late, storming into my room and began to shake me. "You're not going to believe this! Wake up! Come on!" she said softly. In blind confusion I blinked my eyes as she snapped on the light. Like a child on Christmas morning, ready to tear open presents, she sat impatiently beside me, flushed and waiting for me to wake. "I got a job! I met Kid Rock and he hired me to be a dancer! Can you believe it? And he actually singled me out; he even remembered my name! He's exactly the person I knew he would be," she said. Snow fell softly outside the window, the room was cold, and she pulled her furry coat around her shoulders. As I got up to turn on the heat, I didn't tell her that I was mildly shocked at the news, instead I smiled while she chattered. "Oh - and he has a girlfriend. And that's okay. I don't care. He is so not sleazy. It's better this way." I knew she was referring to Axl. "To just be friends, to know him and go on tour - it's incredible!" she said. "I'm so happy for you, Lisa, this is the chance of a life time," I said. After she'd packed her things the next day, we stood in her bare room. The excitement of last night replaced by the emptiness that emerged from the stripped bed, the hollow drawers that stood open. One forgotten sock lay balled in the corner of her room. We were silent as we left the house, as I drove her to the auditorium where the tour buses waited. The sound of my voice broke the heavy silence, and my words seemed like a foreign thing. "You're not just some groupie chick, you deserve somebody that will treat you good. I know he has a girlfriend - but I just want you to remember, OK?" I said. Looking out of the windows, I could see her blushing as she gazed at the passing cars. A man on the sidewalk held a baby close to his chest and then he stopped to look out at the river. "You're different, Lexia. And you've got a lot of good things going - getting married to David," she said. I looked away, towards the road, almost missing a stop sign. "You guys will probably buy that house next to Violet and her husband, you'll have identical white picket fences soon you'll have kids. It's what you've always wanted. Things really have worked out for us, haven't they?" she said. How I wanted to agree, but knew that if I did it would be a lie. Somehow I couldn't tell her that I broke up with David, that I wasn't getting married. She was so happy and I didn't want to destroy that, so I kept it to myself. She was talking about how she was going to write that she'd be back someday, when I turned the corner and realized that I had no idea where I was headed. Next time: Lex's Story
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