"Meet who?"

"C. C."

"C. C. who?"

"C. C. DeVille."

"Who's that?"

"The lead guitar player for Poison!" the guy said, getting agitated, I could tell.

"Really? Which one is he?"

The guy pointed at a short, blonde, fuzzy fellow.

"Oh yeah? I saw the lead singer over there.... Sebastian?"

Now this guy was visibly moved... appalled. He sneered, "You mean BRETT MICHAELS?"

"Yeah, I guess I do.... and sure I would love to meet C. C. DeVille! I mean, after all... I have been casing him all night, you said!"

He sneered, "He's busy right now!" and walked off.

Now I am standing at a crossroads in time. I was going to leave, but now I am staring at someone who apparently seemed interesting enough to pause. However now I was alone, and had no idea what else to do. So I moved in... of course.

"Hi, C. C.... My name is Julia.... and apparently I have been 'casing' you all night, so I thought I should just come on over and introduce myself."

C. C. was rather involved in a conversation, but that really didn't slow me down. I was leaving. It had to be done. So as he was trying to explain to some guy something, he turned to me. Pretty much, smashed. He grabbed my by my shoulders, more or less, and began to use me for some form of support. I wasn't sure which kind, though. It gave the guy he was talking to a break from being mauled himself.

"Kiss C. C. Pray for C. C." was pretty much repeated until I found myself, trying to prop him back up on his own.

"I will pray for you C. C." and I meant it. God and I were tight. But as he kept on and on, further draping himself on me, rather bulky he became. Peeling his hands from me, I was surprised to hear myself say,

"C. C. I will pray for you. I won't kiss you but I will certainly pray for you. I'm doing it now. But C. C. you gotta pray for yourself, honey... and I gotta go...."

But in my head I was repeating my thoughts of, "Ok C. C.... I will pray for you, C. C. Stop touching me now, C. C. Okay, C. C. stand up, now... you can do it.... prop, flop... Really C. C. quit breathing on me, any second now. I love you, I'm sure, but I am not prepared for THIS!" I handed the C. C. duty back to the guy, literally handing him over, and I made my quick escape. I said a little prayer, but within a week I believe he was booted from the band. Then rumor had it he was turning tricks for coke, but that's really none of my business anyway!

I was more interested in smoking coke than playing vertical stabilizer for C. C. DeVille, I guess. Right as I was leaving, the guy who wanted to introduce me, stopped me. He said he lived with Poison.

"Do you want to come home with us?"

"Uh.... let me get back to you on that one, K?"

Next thing, I am in my car in the parking lot, mulling over the last five minutes of my life. The voice in my head kept asking me, "Do I want to go home with Poison? Do I want to go home with Poooiiiisooon? Do I? No? That doesn't even sound healthy!"

"Wait a minute!! I'm homeless!! Where else am I going to go?"

That made me laugh. Again I considered, "Do I want to go home with Poison?"

In a flash, I couldn't even imagine having to look at the one guy. Very unattractive. Won't describe him. You probably know him, RJ!

So... had I known about the Poisonous mansion filled to the brim with crack, I might have reconsidered. But alas, I wouldn't even know who Poison was until later. After the fact. Therefore, it was off into the Dark Hollywood night that I chose to go, instead.

I had met Fast Eddie only a day or so earlier. I really shouldn't have gone there, but from what I could tell, he had a very nice place, great couple of kids, an open invitation and hadn't tried to touch me. So, showing up there in the late night hours suited me just fine. Especially since he had a big day the next day. Had to go to sleep early, in fact. He had to go to court.

Fast Eddie was a speed dealer/porn producer he claimed. We had even talked briefly about Tweaky Dave, who was a Troll who lived under the Hollywood bridge. I had seen him first on Montel, also my first time to see that show or host. I had met Tweaky Dave personally, a scene played out by Tara in a way, in Chance of a Lifetime. I would later see Tweaky Dave on Jerry Springer. A few years later, I would even meet Jerry Springer and talk about Dave. But this was still that night, probably fall of 1991. And I was at a 'safe place' to be... or at least that's what I had hoped for when I got there.

He had welcomed me, half expecting me to show up, I am guessing. His smile and broad laughter was rather soothing, despite my own reservations about his specific interests. But he made no attempt to show me porno, or touch me, or want my drugs... so I was okay with this set up.

As he apologized for not being able to be a better host, he told me about his plans for the next day. He didn't know, but I wanted to be alone anyway. He had to go to court, I learned, as a witness. Turned out, his friend was murdered. He was a witness. After a little more discussion, I learned... IT WAS TWEAKER TED'S TRIAL. Of course....

Who else would be on trial for murder in my little story, my dearest reader and friend?