Arrival at the bar

Christina drives with a quick confidence in her abilities that seems a match with her confidence holding a guitar. You cast periodic glances at her profile, admiring her beauty, and feeling pleased when she catches you and rewards you with that dazzling smile.

She slows down as she reaches the outskirts of a town, then slows further to turn onto a main street. Finding a parking spot, she uncoils from the low sports car, pulling a guitar case and a small canvas bag out of the space behind the seats. She hands them to you with a smile, then slips back into the car to put the top up.

She shakes her head as she gets out, tossing her wind blown hair into a sexy tousle, and takes her stuff back from you. "We're up here," she says, nodding up the block to a neon sign advertises the 'Red Falcon Saloon.'

The two of you step into a bar that looks like it was built before Prohibition and has only been moderately cleaned since then. It's not even half full, with a handful of drinkers spread along the bar and a few at tables. At first glance they look like the typical denizens of a blue collar bar, but on closer inspection you see that several of them have the studied working class look of well off hipsters, and you notice the beer taps are a range of craft beers, and not just the usual Pabst and Bud.

"Hey Tina!" the bartender calls. "The others are already here and setting up. You want a beer?"

"Hey Ted, just water right now," she answers. "Give my friend a beer if he wants one." The immaculately bearded bartender looks a question at you. You point to the Sam Adams and he nods, pouring yours with one hand while he fills a glass of water for Christina. You reach for your wallet but he shakes his head. "On the house."

Christina smiles as she leads you to the back of the saloon. "There are some advantages to being 'with the band'" she laughs.

"So you're Tina here?'

"I am indeed. Sister Tina Torrid and Crazy Train if you want to be exact," she says, laughing at your expression.