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to ever go through again. So standing outside the very large Tacoma Dome made me want to go all fan-girl and freak out.
    After a silent , but totally inward, fan moment, I remembered I had a job to do. Even if this band made me want to scream and shout, drop my panties, and go buck wild in excitement, I really needed this job. I would have plenty of time to freak out about how undeniably fantastic it was that I would be working with this band once I got the job done. Holy shit, I’m going to see them in concert! Just then, my new work phone chirped, causing me to startle.
    *Don’t forget my dr y-cleaning; they close at seven.*
    Well , apparently seeing them in concert wasn’t happening tonight; however it was eventually going to occur.  That’s right, I worked for Black Laden.
     
    It took forever to get clearance to get backstage. Apparently, my boss forgot to inform security who I was. So, for almost thirty minutes I tried to explain I wasn’t a groupie who wanted to get “rammed” as one security officer so elegantly stated. Of course, there were small apologies once I was finally able to reach Stephanie at the office, and the gigantic burly men finally believed I wasn’t there for the gang bang. Did I really look like a groupie whore? All of my girly parts were neatly tucked away, not out on display like the women they mistook me for.
    “Sorry ma’am. It’s not the first time, nor the last we will hear that excuse to get back stage,” the tall hefty man that went by the name Tiny explained.
    “It’s no problem, just glad you guys take your job seriously. And my name is Molly,” I commented, still in shock at the weird name for such a ginormous man. Tiny smiled and guided me down the long curving corridor, passing by tons of people working on getting the show together.
    “The guys won’t be back for another hour or so, so no need to be rushed or anything,” Tiny exclaimed, holding open the door for me to enter. I don’t know if I was expecting something else from the room, but it was just that. A large plain room, with a couple black leather couches and various tables with food and booze scattered around the place. Maybe I thought it would be softer, but then again this was a rock band and their rider did ask for several boxes of condoms.
    “Let me know if you need anything .”
    “Thanks , Tiny, for your help. I appreciate it tons,” I replied. The door shut behind me and there I stood with the list in my hand. Well, guess I better get to it.
     
     
    Some things on the list were a given; like bottled water and booze. Others were a little strange; like the fog machine and jumping castle outside. Then there were the just down right bizarre; two blow-up dolls and a sex swing. I just really hoped I never had to experience walking in while that was in process. Who knew if it was a brand new one each time or if they packed it up and used it again at the next stop. A shudder ran down my body just thinking of the sex swing, oh good lord the germs.
    I was adjusting the rack in the hotdog cart when the dressing room door slammed shut, causing me to jump and crashed gracefully into the large unit.
    “Fuck,” I grumbled when a large tear appeared on the side of my ass cheek. This was perfect. Not only did I not have underwear on, but my shirt wasn’t long enough to cover the damn hole I was now sporting.
    “Well, that’s a shame. I would tell you to just take them off right now, but I have this rule about sex before the concert,” a dark smooth voice chuckled from behind me.
    Whirling around, I stood facing Reid Chambers; lead singer and resident sex god for Black Laden. There were no words to describe how absolutely delicious this man was. Undeniably, he was the hottest man I had ever seen; however when he opened his mouth, it was an entirely different story.

Chapter 5 : Being a pompous ass gets you nowhere, unless you have millions of dollars. Then, apparently, you can do anything.
     
    “Excuse