Without thinking I opened the door to the control room and pursued whoever left it just seconds ago. When I opened the other door I stepped into the bright light of a halogen lamp hanging on the ceiling in the hallway. When my eyes adjusted to the light I was shocked to see two men staring at me. I didn’t recognize them. Or I thought I didn’t at first. But at a closer look I realized that the black haired man was no other than Keith Richards, lead guitarist of the Rolling Stones. The man standing next to him was fatter and shorter and had slick brown hair that hung around his round face like a helmet. When I was taking all off this in, I didn’t hear Keith ask me a question. When he asked me again I could hear slight irritation in his voice. He obviously wasn’t used to this lack of attention when he spoke. “I thought you guys finished recording here at 10?” he asked. When I didn’t answer and continued to study him (he looked quite underweight and shabby to me) he said, “Hello..? You. ”My thus far nameless guest paused, sipping at her coffee. “And, no, I don’t believe we have been introduced. I’m Ashley. Pleased to meet you, although”, and she meaningfully glanced about to indicate my home and her under dressed state, “it appears that we are already, er, ‘acquainted’, so to speak!”I provided my baseline, “wha d’fug?” blank look, and followed up with an explanatory narrative. “Rescuer? What are you talking about?”She put the cup down, and sidled over to me, wrapping her arms over my shoulders, drawing me until her forehead rested against my own. This placed her breasts against my lower chest, and Mr. Happy started to stir, interested in the proceedings. I focused on her eyes, meeting mine unblinkingly.“Well, in the bar last night, there was the part where I stumbled and you caught me. You don’t really look as if you can move that fast, but I stumbled, you grabbed my arm, and I did not fall on my face. Then there was the part where my old boyfriend came into the bar,.
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