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The Code

That's "Miss Zena" if you're nasty

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Honky-tonk Women. I'm Rachel. Or Barbara or Stephanie or Zena if I'm in a wild mood. If we meet in a bar, you would have to be pretty hot to get my true identity. It's part of the code.

Everyone should have a good sidekick or wingman: a friend who calls you a bitch to your face, and most of the time, you find it endearing. Mine is Wendy. Or Donna. Or Isis if she's feeling wild. She's not from here, she's from the South, so her accent and her mannerisms are quite charming. Quite a draw when cruising the bar scene.

Eight o'clock in Boise, Idaho. Wendy chose our destination tonight. She needed to unwind and thought a little Rocci Johnson would do the trick. She must be a little "lonely," too. Wendy had arranged for Spike to meet us at the bar. Spike is a barely 21-year-old guy who has more self love than a group therapy session of narcissists. I feel an Isis coming on. That means Zena takes on the wingman role. More code.

Fortunately, Wendy has a good eye and Spike is sweet eye candy, can dance to just about anything, and even carry on some conversation, although mostly about his great high school lacrosse career. We kept him around as our dance bitch, letting him think he was so hot with his '80s mohawk and two women on the dance floor, all the while we are checking out what else Rocci can stir up for the Barfly Princesses.

I love rock and roll. And beer. And a smoky treat or two. The night is progressing. Wendy, now pretty much completely Isis, has added her black panties to the bra collection hanging from the ceiling. Seemed appropriate at the time. She has also added an unlikely character to our table, Thor. Celebrating his birthday since early on in the afternoon, Thor's attention was captured by me, Zena, Wingman Princess.

Might as well jump! The four of us, Isis, Spike, Birthday Boy Thor, and me, end up at an after-hours dance club where struggling to get your feet unstuck from the floor is disguised as bump-n-grind dancing. Although I did my best to assist the hookup of Isis and Spike, it's not looking good. Before Spike tips over and starts whining for his teddy, we call it a night. Despite Wendy's exciting yet unsatisfying night, I am feeling quite successful. I bet Thor is, too. For his birthday, he got my name and phone number. Both real. Sometimes you have to let go of the code.

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