To the man playing the funny little guitar at the restaurant last night with the Oktoberfest hat:
I don't know if you remember me - but I was near the front of the crowd wearing a tube top and short shorts, waving my arms above my head and shaking my booty, while everyone else was sitting down? I really wanted you to play "Sweet Home Alabama" or "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" (two of my top favs) but you may not have heard me? I tried to yell them out, but it was hard to get a word in edgewise with all that beer that needed drinking. It sure seemed like a tough crowd for you - no one looked very happy. If I were you, I'd have a hard time playing that ethnic polka/big band music (or whatever you call it) all night long, the same old song over and over and over and over. You have a ton more patience than I do. Maybe you had to play that since there were so many older people there? I know you totally would have played my stuff if you had heard me.
Anyhow, I just wanted to tell you thank you for being so nice when those guys came up and started harassing me. And zapping me with that gun thing. I don't think I've hurt that bad since I fell off the hood of the car going 45 miles an hour. I know you didn't say anything, but it meant a lot that you kind of had that moment of silence for me when the ambulance came and took me away on a stretcher. My legs just didn't work real well for a bit, but I'm fine now.
You Rock! Thanks again, Stephanie M.