Sour you. Let me tell you a story:

One upon a time, I was working in Waikiki as a Peachy's Puffs girl. I was at Fusion at about 3 in the morning, and had just sold this young guy a pack of cigarettes.

As usual, I opened them for him and offered him the first one, tucking the pack into his pocket.

I pulled the pink Bic lighter out of my boustier and went to light his cigarette, unfortunately just as the guy passed out, his face falling forward, his elaborate hairdo, gelled up to spikes, catching the flame of the lighter and going up in flames.

Flames. The dude's head was on ****ing fire.

I patted it out, frantically. I made a hasty exit after that, mortified that I had actually set a customer aflame. The next time I saw that guy, he had a buzz cut and clearly didn't remember anything about what happened.

Raver, I've always thought of you as that guy, even though that's impossible since this occurred over ten years ago and there's just no chance that it really was you.