She wasn’t who I’d rather be with, but I’m in a strange town, and she’ll do.

Being in a hardcore punk band can really suck, in a lot of ways. The hours are long and the pay is weak. And if the show’s booked by a bar instead of by a kid from the scene, you might even have to argue with some asshole to get your small stack of bills.

But there are perks.

There are a lot of women willing to sleep with a guy in a happenin’ band. Some of ‘em think just like men, looking for a quick roll in the sack, or a night on the rack, happy that they’ll never have to see you again, or at least not for six months. They’re tired of fucking guys in their own town, tired of having their hearts broken, and tired of having everyone know their business.

Bands may fuck and tell, but they tell someone 500 miles away the following day. And that doesn’t blow back to you as quickly as when you’re blowing assholes from your own to...

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