Well it starts out with a bar, and playing guitar, and meeting a girl. A young woman, of course, not no child; her name was Patty and she worked at this bar, it was kind of a dive on Interstate Ave., a place where you could actually run into an unsavoury character or two. Patty always wore a thick Irish sweater, and in her private life she was working on improving her fiddle technique. She lived in a shack right close to the freeway, and one evening she invited Klaus to come over for a while. The conversation was mostly centered on fiddle playing technique. Klaus had started out in Czechoslovakia as a classical violinist, so he had a few pointers, although in essence the Irish fiddle style is completely and utterly different from the Classical. It was freezing in there -- no wonder she wore that heavy sweater. Later on she explained, as she was hoisting the sweater, that she also wore it to work to keep a lid on men staring at her breasts all the time. Indeed, she was curvaceous, and Klaus found her enormously appealing. It's like she kept her body well-concealed at the bar and was now revealing herself, and Klaus felt like she was inviting him to go ahead and look. After all, she kept smiling. Having already taken off the sweater, Patty made a move toward the bed, which Klaus found irresistible. She really was a remarkable woman. Klaus was totally into this, he was humming to himself as he took off his shoes and started getting undressed. When Patty softly put her arms around his neck, he felt truly happy. Things were going great! "Oh yeah," Patty said, quietly, like by-the-way ... "I have this husband, he's a trucker, he won't be back for at least two hours ... OK?" Klaus would have said all right to just about anything at this point, he was fully aroused to the point where he must have been glowing. They snuggled together in the warm bed, all smiles, and were just moving toward actually having sex, when ... Klump, Klump, Klump! Heavy boots coming up the front steps! "Oh shit!" said Patty. She motioned with her head toward the window. This seemed the only escape plan. She crawled back under the cover as Klaus hopped into his trousers and opened the window with one hand, holding his shoes in the other. He sat astride the windowsill, still aroused with his pants on, looking down to see that it wasn't really that far to jump down. The large man with the heavy boots was already inside the front door, by the sound of things. Just as Klaus was getting ready to jump, the sash window came down fast, clocking him right across the forehead. For a second he saw lots of stars, but he tried to keep a clear head because of the urgency of the matter at hand. He made nary a sound, just winced as he hopped down into the wet leaves and ran barefoot back to his car, still carrying his shoes. The next evening, over dinner with friends, Klaus was asked about the two parallel gash lines on his forehead. Heh heh, well ...