I didn't have a good answer as to how I knew it, except that I had read it somewhere in my azalea travails. It was either that or mention Olivia Newton-John. No, don't mention her, Katy. No ... don't --
"So how is Olivia Newton-John these days?" I blurted out. Jesus. Why don't I just ask him if he owns a koala while I'm at it. There was a missed connection between what I intended to happen in this bar and what actually occurred. He told me that she was doing fine and then he moved his legs ever so slightly to the left, away from me.
"Another drink?" asked the bartender. I wished Michael Stipe were sitting next to me. Now that's one bald guy in French eyeglasses I can relate to.
