It has been brought to my attention that a few people miss my little sex, drugs, and rock n roll story anecdotes at the end of most of my reviews.

When I write for a client who has sent me cigars for review, I generally leave that out as they sometimes post them on their web sites and I don’t want them to experience any embarrassment.

So here goes…no cigar review…just rock n roll.

My band, Curved Air, was doing an 8 week tour of Europe. We were based in London but would do two weeks there and another 6 weeks on the Continent.

Our chick singer, and sex goddess of all Europe, had substance abuse problems. At the time I joined the band, she was seeing a doctor to get off of morphine. The doc put her on methadone injections. I did not know this until one fateful night.

We did our first English tour and on the second to the last night was when my eyes were opened.

The next day we were off to Northern England. Management put us on a nonstop train. They were kind enough to put us in first class. Which meant you sat in a car with 4 chair tables. No suites.

Back to the night before….the dressing room was swamped. And S motioned for me to follow her to the bathroom. I didn’t get it. I did, but I was scared shitless.

Everyone else got it and lots of Wooos emitted from the collective mouth.

I followed her and she locked the door. She never said a word and got on her knees. She unzipped my fly and well…you don’t need a picture.

When we finished, she told me she needed a favor. And she would tell me what the favor was in the morning. OK.

Her boyfriend, Stewart Copeland of The Police came to the train station with us. Just before the train left he took me aside and told me all about S drug problem. He said the band had gone through this several times in the past with her and swore they would never put up with it again so I was the only one to know.

And I better keep my mouth shut.

Stew told me that she needed her shots every 4 hours…but they overslept and didn’t have time to pick up her script for new methadone. So she would be going through withdrawal at some point during the trip. Therefore, he arranged to have me and her sit at our own table and the rest of the band was in another car.

All I thought was, “Why me?”

I had never seen a person go through withdrawal. I had no idea what I was about to go through.

The two chairs across the table had a minister of Parliament and his wife. An older couple. Oh great.

A couple hours in, S started making animal sounds and her eyes were rolled back. I started shoving Dramamine down her throat. Yeah, that would work.

It only got worse from there. So I dragged her to the tiny train bathroom. I figured we could hold up there for another 6 hours. Sure.

She started to undress me. Her eyes were closed. She grabbed my belt and opened it and pulled my zipper down. I tried to stop her but it was déjà vu all over again.

OWWWWWW!

She was biting me. Hard. I tried to make her stop and we were banging around in the tiny bathroom like fish out of water. She wouldn’t let go. I thought she was going to bite it off.

I finally grabbed her hair and yanked. That did it. Then she started to slug me in the face and body. Damn she was strong. So now we had brouhaha in this stupid bathroom.

I pulled her out of the bathroom and took her back to our seats.

She was moaning and making horrible sounds. She started scratching at the skin on her arms; blood was showing.

Everyone was looking but no one said a damn thing.

I grabbed her arms to stop her and we wrestled for 5 hours until we got off the train.

This was one of the worst and most embarrassing times in my life.

We got to the hotel and I ran to a pharmacy and got her script. I ran back to the hotel and she was sitting on the toilet using a can/bottle opener to cut her wrists.

Oh God.

I yanked her out of there and threw her on the bed. I got the drugs out and she managed to do her thing. Moments later, she was fine.

She had absolutely no memory of the entire day.

She looked at me with a big smile and said, “You wanna’ get some dinner?”

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