'Kay, we're at "The Shantie". 9 Mile and Ryan in Warren MI. For a Friday-Saturday gig. It's early Friday, we're not even through the first set and we're getting flashed by a woman. She's flashing us with the rapidity of morse code and we're getting more info than we need from this flasher. She ain't no looker. The Shantie is a "family" restaurant pub. It's pub time and we're playin' and this woman suddenly has no shirt or bra where both are needed desperately! Finally managment convinces her to put her shirt back on. Thank the heavens, there is a God! So, the first set is done and here's this...flasher and she wants us to sign them! I've been married 13 years, and the thought of even being in company with a female stranger's parts is reviled by every part of my being. I don't care what she looks like in this circumstance. It's my turn to sign and I put the cap on the back of the pen, and holding it in the tips of my fingers with my head turned scribble something. uuugggghh! I'm thinkin' of that 10 ft. pole analogy at about this time. Fortunately it was a Sharpie and not a ball point pen.