Welcome to the continuing story of Freshtone, laconic, guitar-playing storyteller extraordinaire. In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that Freshtone wrote to me several times to add details to the story I told yesterday, but I am unsure as to my ability to weave them into the narrative. I�ll do my best, but you know, not all of us can tell a story like Freshtone.

When we last saw Freshtone, he had just slammed the door on his highly drunken coworker, who was hurling full beer bottles down a hotel hall at a fleeing prostitute and her pimp. Let�s let Freshtone speak:

�It�s now 3:00 a.m., and Gary is in HIS room, passed out in a pool of something I was fortunate enough not to experience. In six hours, we�re due at a meeting with our vendor�the entire reason for making the trip.

�So� 9:00 a.m. comes, and there is no answer from Gary�s room or cell phone. It occurs to me that he is dead. Finally, he answers in a daze, and we somehow manage to get in the car and begin the hour-long drive to Lake Havasu, while listening to The End by the Doors. We stopped numerous times to reenact the peyote scene from the legendary Doors movie. Imagine this: Car pulled off to the side of a long desert highway, Gary heaving into the sand, with Jim Morrison screaming through the speakers, �WHIP HIM IN THE EYES� BRING OUT YOUR DEAD� RIDE THE SNAKE�� etc. You get the point.

�He gets most of the poison out before we arrive at our destination. I, mind you, have at least been able to muster up the energy to shower and put on a button-down shirt. Gary chose to wear a tie-dyed shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. At least the tie-dye pattern hid the soils of the night before.

�The president of the company greets us and gives us the grand tour before we really get down to business. It goes surprisingly well. Every chance we got, we would turn to one of the mullet-wearing guys on the production line and divulge tidbits of our previous night. By the time we made it through the factory, we had a crew of fans following us, wanting to hear more about life in the big city. (That would be Laughlin.) Being the big shots we are, we offer to take the president and a select group of our new fans to lunch at Laughlin�s very own sushi buffet, where we manage to ring up a hefty tab. There were 10 people and we spent $95.

�So, Gary pulls out his corporate credit card to pay for lunch, and is feeling pretty smooth until the waiter comes back and says �Sorry, sir, you�ve been DECLINED.� I whip out my card and take care of things, we sign a few autographs for the mullets and we�re off. Somewhere around the California border, Gary calls the credit card company to see what happened, and the woman on the other end of the phone says �Yes, we shut down your card after the $4,000 charge at 4:00 a.m. from Green Lodge, Inc. in Arizona. Sir, is that a legitimate charge?� Now, those familiar with these things know that strip clubs ALWAYS use a covert name when they charge your card, saving countless relationships from doom, as illustrated in this example: �Yes, honey I did spend $500 at the Green Lodge in Arizona. That is where I bought you this beautiful 1,000-carat piece of turquoise, dug from thousands of feet down by the bare hands of an expert Native American who lives next to the lodge. Is isn�t it beautiful?� In reality, of course, there is a stand at the California/Arizona border that sells $3 pieces of rock painted blue for just this situation. [�Of course.� Big eye roll. � Ed.] It�s genius, really. Our problem was, this $4,000 charge was on a company credit card and the boss won�t be bought off with some phony turquoise earrings.

�Suffice it to say that Gary no longer works for us.

�I cannot work Jeff Beck in because there is no room for him in this TRUE story.�

So, there you have it. A typical Freshtone story. I wish I could duplicate in text his air of bemused detachment while telling it. And, as with all Freshtone tales, it raises many questions. �Why,� for example, �Why was there a $4,000 charge from a strip club on the credit card?� Or maybe, �Is it really possible for one guy to spend $4,000 on strippers?� Or �He spent $4,000 AFTER he went through the $1,000 in singles?� Or, "Did Gary get canned right away, or was there a grace period, before the credit card statement arrived?" Or, �How did I come to believe that Jeff Beck was somehow involved in this story, anyway?�

But all these questions just serve to irritate Freshtone, who will answer you with cryptic, elliptical statements that raise even more questions, until all you are left with is the fervent belief that no matter what, you do not ever want to travel out of state with Freshtone or anyone he knows.

Especially, especially Gary.

Star of the day. . .Rachel Brice