Hell, I took French in college, still can’t speak a word, though my wife says I sometimes talk in my sleep, in French, when I’m stressed. At least...I could read it. I only took it back then because I thought it sounded sexy. Like that would be my way to meet girls.I felt someone standing next to me before I saw her. The coach of the cheer squad was standing over me. Her whistle hanging off her neck almost hitting me in the face. Not as frumpy as every adult I met so far, I allowed my eyes to. "A bloody Mary. Make it a pale one, my friend." You got it," the bartender said. He looked at Jake carefully for a moment, his eyes slowly showing recognition. "Hey," he said. "You're Jake Kingsley, aren't you?" Yeah," Jake said, resigned. "I guess I am." Son of a bitch," the bartender said. "I'm one of your biggest fans! I was at the show last night! I'm still hungover from it." Sorry to hear that," Jake told him."No problem, dude. It was a great show. One of your best. Tell me. More

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