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She seesknew I’d be here So she does a little s to the new model and I can tell just fro-poured drinks they are going to coood show and—could she be so stupid and cruel?—how are you doing? And I can’t stand the thought of it I see it all unfolding and I know I have to do so—to stop it

So I, this randoirl in flannel who I don’t even know and say:

“I know this is going to sound strange, but would you irlfriend for the next five minutes?”

2 NORAH

Randy from Are You Randy? insists the bassist frouy is straight Whether or not he’s responsible for his band’s shit lyrics (Fuck the Man / Fuck the Man—what’s that trite crap?), I have no idea, but he’s ’no ’irl just knows, like that a fourthis a bad, bad idea, or that no way does a Jersey-boy bassist with Astor Place hair ears torn-up, bleach-stained black jeans and a faded black T-shirt with orange lettering that says When I say Jesus, you say Christ, swing down boy-boy alley; he’s working the ironic punk boy–Johnny Cash angle too hard to be a ’mo Maybe he’s a little emo, I told Randy, but just because he doesn’t look like a Whitesnake-relic-reject like all of your band, does not autoy

The incidental fact of his straightness doesn’t irlfriend, like I’m some 7-Eleven quick stop on his slut train Only because I am the one loser here who hasn’t lost all her senses to beer, dope, or horinal instinct—to yell back “FUCK, NO!” in response to NoMo’s question

I have to think about Caroline I always have to think about Caroline

I noticed NoMo loading equipment after his band’s set while his bandmates abandoned him to score so up everyone else’s mess

NoMo dresses so bad—he has to be from Jersey And if Jersey Boy is equipment bitch, he has a van The van’s probably a piece of scrapcarburetor that as likely as not will pop a tire or run out of gas in the middle of the Lincoln Tunnel, but it’s a risk I have to take Soet Caroline ho her on the bus She’s also so drunk she’ll go home with Randy if I’m not there to take her back to my house where she can sleep it off Groupie bitch If I didn’t love her so much, I’d kill her

She’s lucky my parents love her just as much; her dad and stepive a fk what she does, so long as she doesn’t get pregnant or date any boy froure-plus-income household Jerk-offs My parents, they adore Caroline, beautiful Caroline with the long cara cherry Tootsie Pop lips, the juvenile delinquent arrest record They won’t care if she stumbles from my roo over She’s the one, not lewood Cliffs–livin’, fat-cat record company CEO should be: wild

Caroline’s not a Big Disappoint, tousled bowl-head-haircut-courtesy-of-a-300-salon-visit-with-Modorf’s)-and-a-5-can-of-blue-spray-paint (Ricky’s), straight-edge, responsible valedictorian bitch daughter I’ve chosen a gap year on a kibbutz in South Africa over Brown WHY, Norah, WHY? I wrote my Brown admissions essay about all the oddamned ruined to make profit for The Man I a, after he read the essay Dad won’t deny that he’s responsible for giving Top 40 radio a disproportionate percentage of its suckiest hits, yet he’s proud he indoctrinated me from childhood in the sounds of every other kind of hteen, I can be a badass DJ when I want, but I am also an insufferable music snob My parents have also donehappily married for a quarter century, which no doubt doo true love Gold is not struck twice

My parents would disown ht Hell, I could be scoring weed in Toe bar on Avenue D, and my parents would only applaud But this club, this is the one joint in all of Manhattan I’-si feud over a bad music deal between Dad and the club owner, Crazy Lou (who used to beLou to be rechristened Crazy) Lou’s such an old punk he was around when The Ramones were junkie hustlers first andother than a e-and-tunnel crowd feel cool

But Moht killafter their beloved Caroline She inspires that kind of devotion in people It’s nauseating, except I am totally under Caroline’s spell, too, her lead minion, have been since nursery school

I look around the club as the between-set host with the inconvenience ofin their way on the way to the beer Daht, which is cool—Are You Randy? don’t cootta et her alone in a corner But I’ in front ofto find out if I want to be his five-oes around asking “Are you my mother?” in that kid book