So this fella comes up to me. I was in Memphis, outside the Honey DO Club looking for some more suckers who'd let you have the grandmother to see the bed Elvis broke wind in. This guy looked and smelled like he'd been through a gin mill, rolled solo in the hay, and hadn't seen a razor in days. His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes rumpled and I knew he was trouble, but he had this little lost boy look to him, mixed in with a little bit of a sexy smile, that of course melted my oh-so-soft heart and I knew, just knew I was gonna regret giving him the time of day, let alone crawling in bed with him.

What the hell, my shift was over, I was sick of spewing about the *King*, actually I was so sick of the whole Elvis thing, I was thinking about cutting out on my boss anyway, and along came Mr. Lost Boy.

So, I asked him, "Hey, suge, how ya doing? Somebody roll ya or something?"

"Yea, or something," he replied. "Say, do you know where a guy who's lost all his money can get a hot bath and shave around here? I could wash dishes or something. You know of anybody might be able to help me? Oh, my name's Blake, Blake Madison. And, you must be the Answer to My Dreams?"

"Nice try, fella. Just call me Serita, rhymes with Chiquita, ya know, like the bananas? I got a little apartment upstairs from the Hushabye Club; it's just around the corner. I guess you could come up there. I've got pepper spray, though and my dog will kill you if you try any funny stuff! Say...you're new in town aren't cha?"