What's a Nice Girl Like You....?

"Have for a time," he said. "This began a long time ago when she was much younger, and so was I to tell the truth."

Much younger? I thought, she was barely twenty now or at least appeared to be.

"Consider yourself lucky. There was a time when guys like you kept her going until it all turned on her."

I was beginning to feel like a voyeur, so I turned and walked back to the table in a daze and sat down in front of my glass of beer.

"My memory, bein what it is now, but I think her first was a guy name Howard, something. Nope, my mistake. The man's name was Roger....Roger Peterson I think. You may have heard of him."

"Never heard of him," I said trying to concentrate on the old man and what I had just seen outside.

"You heard of Buddy Holly, ain't ya?"

"Of course, everyone has." I couldn't figure out where this conversation was going, still thinking about what Sophie was doing outside as I sat in here with this old guy who claimed to be her father.

I was still feeling lightheaded from the handjob I had received, and struggling to keep up with the disjointed story the old man was telling me.

"Roger Peterson was the pilot of the plane that Buddy Holly, The Big Bopper, and Richie Valens were in the night it went down."

Now I was confused. What did an accident that everyone in the music world knew about have to do with his daughter?

"She slept with Peterson, who was 21 at the time, three nights before he took off with the three of them as passengers. She met him an a small bar in Fargo. Thought he was cute and couldn't wait to meet Richie Valens in Fargo later the next day at the show they were going to do."

I looked at him, sure I had missed something in what he was telling me.

Now I was confused. It didn't take much to do the math in my head.

"That was in 1959. Your daughter can't be any more than twenty and there is no way that...."

"You know about Buddy Holly's death, right?" he asked again.

"Sofie was 19 at the time," he continued on. "She met Peterson, just a few days before that flight. A week before that, she attended a concert that Crickets had put on.

You see, what killed Buddy Holly and Richie and JP, was the fault of a young pilot who took off in conditions he hadn't been trained to fly in. Roger had agreed to give her a free pass to see Richie at their next show in exchange for letting him fuck her.

Sofie had a huge crush on Ritchie Valens and since he was closer to her age, she easily agreed and fucked Roger for the rest of that night, even let him drop his load in her ass just to seal the deal. She was a wild one and did what she need to get what she wanted.

She met that young fella in a small bar three or four days before he was hired to pilot the plane they used. Took off in a snowstorm of all things and found out later that he didn't even have his instrument certification yet."

"So she didn't have sex with Buddy Holly?" I asked, just to keep the conversation going and to find out what was coming next.

"God no," the man chuckled. "Buddy just got himself married just six months before that flight. Terrible thing. Terrible thing. Sophie took it hard and thought it was nothing more than bad luck, at first."

"Your daughter was with the pilot of that plane? No way. That was sixty four years ago and..."

"She was supposed to meet up with him at the surf Ballroom after the show but instead had a quick fling with the pilot of the plane the three of them boarded. Of course, she was there but the plane never made it and of course, you know the story."

"That's impossible." In my head I was sure the old guy was pranking me and was crazy if he thought I was going to fall for this.

"Is this a joke because...."

"Then there was Lynyrd Skynyrd," he started up again before I could say anything. "I know you heard ah them."

"What?" This guy was definitely putting me on. She met a guy named Dean at a bar down south.

"So now you're going to tell me that she was responsible for the plane crash that killed Ronnie and all those guys in the band? What did she fuck one of the band members?" I asked trying to hide the sarcasm that was flowing out of me.

The old man must have sensed that but continued on with a slight smile on his face.

"Well not directly," the man said. He paused for a moment and took another tip of his glass, possibly for dramatic effect. I was intrigued but I wasn't buying any of it, not for a minute. By now I had done the math and following what he had told me so far, that if she had slept with everyone he claimed she had, she would be in her eighties and I knew that wasn't the woman I had been sitting beside less than an hour ago. I was getting free beer so I decide to let him ramble on.

"She didn't sleep with any of the band members. She knew this guy only as Dean when she met him at the bar. I was with her that night, took her because she doesn't drive, just as I have done for years. Nice looking guy," the old man paused and took a swallow of his beer. "She told me that he was twenty eight and a great fuck, had a huge cock and nearly gagged her when he forced the entire thing down her throat."

"She told you that?"

"She was always telling me what she let those guys do to her. She loved watching me squirm when she went into all the details but would usually help me out with a blowjob at the end. She was generous that way. I discovered after the crash that the man she had slept with three or four nights earlier was Dean Kilpatrick, the assistant road manager for the band and he was on that flight with the rest of the band."

He stopped and wavered for a moment, raised his hand and signaled for another drink, offered me one but I politely shook my head, no. I had down three by this time and knew I had at least an hour to get back to the hotel the band had booked. God knows what mayhem they had unleashed on that place in the time that I had disappeared.

"What time is it?" he asked but something told me he already knew the answer.

I looked at my watch and then back at the man.

"Twenty past midnight."

"Bout now he's got her bent over the front of that car and he's fucking her in the ass. Man has a death wish. Seen it countless times over the years," he said shaking his head. "Once they dig into that honey pot, it's all over but the funeral."

Curious, I got up and stepped to the window looking out onto the nearly empty lot. They were under the light of one of two still working lot lights. Sure as shit, the little beauty was bent forward over the front of the Nissan with her dress up around her hips, the grossly overweight charmer had his hands on her ass and was emulating his porn star heroes, head back, eyes closed, as he slammed his wobbling belly against her beautiful bottom, plunging his cock into her like a dog in heat.

I continued to watch for another minute thinking that I would have given anything at that moment to be in his shoes.

"Lucky you're not in his shoes or her ass," I heard the old man say as if he had heard my thoughts."

"What?" I asked, as I turned back toward the table.

He wasn't looking at me or anywhere near the window but had his eyes closed and head tilted up toward the ceiling.

"I don't wish that on anyone," he said.

"Why?" I had to ask.

He ignored the question and I hesitated before walking back to the table, sat down and discovered a fresh glass of beer in front of my chair.

"Eventually, my little girl got tired of fucking, then losing all the men she wanted to be with, in one manner or another and the chain reaction it sometimes caused. I won't even get into the mess that it made for Ozzy when Randy Rhoads was killed."

Whatever buzz I had thirty minutes ago was gone now and the skepticism I had was wavering like a man standing on the edge of a deep chasm wondering if he might jump.

"All the famous people lost was like collateral damage and she felt herself to blame for it. She knew that she was cursed and from that point on, told me that she was never going to find the right man without killing him first, so she might as well kill all the one's she'd been trying to avoid for years."

I was going to say something but my throat was dry even with the drink and didn't even know where to begin at that point.

"Guys like that one you saw her with out there right now banging the shit out of her on the hood of that car. Bout the time she gives up her ass, it's game over. Guy like that right now who is getting the ride of his life, for the moment. He'll be gone by the end of the week."

"Gone?'

"As in dead and gone."

"All she wants to do is fuck but if she can't fuck the guys she really wants, without killing them, then she's going to get rid of all the losers that she has to endure every time she shows up at a bar, or anywhere in public.

He paused and took a drink and looked at the window again. I was tempted to go and have another look myself but felt more like a pervert in front of this guy who claimed to be her dad. Then he said something that threw me for a loop.

"Hell, she's even let me fuck her a time or two but never in the ass, but that was ages ago."

And just when I thought what I had heard up to this point was the strangest part of the conversation.

"Bars being the best place to land a catch but she had lost so many of the one's she wanted to get to know, she believed she was cursed and started taking it out on the rest of them. My little girl has been addicted to sex for most of her life and I can't stop it. Not that I've done much to try. She has a hell of a mouth on her, I know that from experience."

"She would love to have had guys like you but rather than get you killed.... she gave you a break. If she didn't like you, you would be out there in the lot with her instead of him."

"I guess what she gave me would have to do."

"Leave it at that," he said with a crooked smile. "She's going to get the best of both worlds. She gets fucked and so do the guys that she gives it to."

He laughed and looked at his watch again.

"That was a short night," he said without an explanation.

I left the old man at the table and took one more peek through the window. The two of them were gone and I wondered if that guy she had given herself to was really going to meet his end before the week was up.

I smiled to myself and realized I had been taken for a ride but at least the handjob I had received was more than enough to make up for a silly story the old man had tried to get me to believe. Yes, it was April but I wasn't about to be fooled at all. Maybe I did dodge a bullet in one sense of the word.

I thanked the man for the beers and the interesting tale and left it at that. He nodded and remained silent but I could feel his eyes on me as I made my way to the door. Somehow I knew he had a huge grin on his face as he watched me leave.

I reached out for the door and pulled it open and found my path blocked by an elderly woman who was entering at the same time. I backed up and stood there holding the door for her, walking slowly, she was bent with age and wearing baggy pants and a colorful wool shawl draped over her thin shoulders. Most of it was covered by a cascade of long white hair that fell over both shoulders. She pushed her cane in first then stepped inside as I held the door for her.

"Why, thank you young man," she said in a scratchy voice then turned up her face up to me and smiled, her features defined by deep creases and leathery skin. Then she gave me a wink and stepped past me and disappeared into the darkness of the bar. It wasn't until I was a mile down the road that I suddenly slammed on the brakes and skidded off onto the gravel shoulder of the road. I was breathing hard as I remembered those deep green eyes and that wink Sophie had given me as she finished me off with her hand.

I was shaking and fought off the sudden urge to turn around and head right back to the bar, then remembered what the old man had told me at the end of our conversation.

The Foolish End