With my wife's friend, Lacey

Lacey had always been a bit of a delinquent. She'd gone to the same school as we had, but never managed to hold down a job for more than a few years; currently, she was working as a hair stylist downtown. She'd always been a hedonist; she loved music, parties, sex, , , food... Fun, but not someone to settle down with. We'd actually casually hooked up a few times in college, when she was, say about 80 pounds lighter than she was today — I wasn't kidding about her love for food — and back then she'd been a pretty good fuck. But she moved on quickly and so did I, but she was good friends with Jane, and actually ended up introducing us at a party a couple years later. We'd stayed in touch since, although she was more of Jane's friend than mine.

She'd never slowed down, and still tried to bring both of us out pretty regularly. We rarely had the time, but Jane had agreed to go with her to a show one weekend. Last minute, she had to bail, but Lacey still wanted someone to go with.

"Please, John," Jane asked. "You've got to go with her. She's been planning this for weeks."

"It'll be fun," Lacey said. "When's the last time you went out, anyway? I'll show you a good time, like old times."