The movie "Joy Ride" didn't hold my attention. I'm not saying it sucked -- that's what Johnny the C. said -- I'm just saying I spent most of the movie at the margarita stand buying libations.

The trucker band White Line Fever did a great job, though, and Tommy the C. sings real well for a sleazy guy.

After the show, we gathered at the tour bus and headed to the Peppermill, the casino and hotel where the band was staying. Along the way, I heard a rumor that Susan Hawk (from "Survivor," remember?) wanted to hang out with the band.

Works for me.

I was pretty much blitzed at the time, but I remember being led through the casino and parked at a slot machine while Johnny and Tommy gambled. I just sat there, staring at the casino lights. Pretty.

After awhile, we headed to the bar and joined the rest of the band at a large table. Johnny told me that Susan Hawk was coming down from her room to join us, and a few minutes later the elevator doors opened and she appeared.

"Decorum," Johnny told me.

"What? What? I haven't done anything."

"It's a preemptive decorum."

"Decorum" is the new buzz word, uttered to those of us who have imbibed alcohol beyond a socially acceptable level, as demonstrated by our inappropriate behavior. It seems to work, since the word is just unusual enough to prevent a knee-jerk reaction. Had he told me "be nice" or "behave" I would have either gone into an Austin Powers impersonation or climbed the chandeliers while making monkey noises.

In the '70s, when I smoked grass, the buzzword was "maintain." I heard that word a bit, too.

Sue Hawk approached the table, escorted by her trucker husband. Now I knew why Johnny had decorumed me. Hawk's husband looked like the Pillsbury Doughboy's brother, except chubby. His upper arms resembled two Virginia hams, and he wore a tank top to show off the jiggle. Very tasteful. Literally. He was so succulent, had he been in the Donner Party it would have been called the Donner Feast and the party would still be going.

That said, I'm pretty sure he could have killed me with one blow of his forearm.

Sue introduced herself to everybody, but her eyes lingered on me. Despite being drunk, I still had the presence of mind to exude the old charm. In other words, I kept my mouth shut.

Hawk flashed a killer smile and was surprisingly nice and gracious -- without a trace of the arrogance that often plagues Hollywood's minor celebrities -- and we soon learned that her interest in the band was more than passing. Hawk wanted to do some singing of her own, so we climbed into the tour bus and made our way to a local karaoke bar in downtown Reno.

When we got to the bar, several of us signed up to sing. (I signed up, but for some reason I was never called to the stage. Decorum, I guess.) Hawk showed a good sense of humor and song selection when she got up to sing "The Bitch Is Back." When she finished, I walked up to compliment Hawk on her performance. She smiled at me and said, "I want you..."

And that's where everything gets hazy. I think she said, "I want you to be with me tonight." But I can't be sure. Especially when five minutes later Tommy the C. walked up and asked me, "Are you stalking Susan Hawk?"

"Fuck you," I said. "Tell you what, I'll go over and stand by the wall on the other side of the room. I bet she walks up to me."

I did just that and Johnny came over and joined me. I told him what I had told Tommy, and sure enough, a few minutes later Susan Hawk walked over and said, "We could probably get that table in awhile." I looked to my left to see if I had a witness, but Johnny was watching an impromptu strip tease performed by a young nubile woman standing on the table Hawk wanted.

I decided to get another beer and ditch the group. In my alcoholic haze, I watched a woman dance an erotic, sensual dance. I became transfixed. I stared. She finished and I smiled. She smiled back. Then her little ferret girlfriend said, "Hey! We don't want to be bothered. Leave her alone."

I don't know if I was stalking Hawk, but I was definitely rebuked for staring in Reno. Twice.

Johnny came over and told me the group decided to go back to the Peppermill to gamble. I told him I'd pass on that action and take a cab home instead.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, man. I'm pretty bagged. I'll just slow you down." The truth was, after getting yelled at for staring again, I figured even my mute charm had evaporated. I went back to our room at the Alamo Center and hit the sack.

The next morning, in honor of my recently deceased mother, I played her favorite machine, the nickel slots. (I'm not a big gambler, but I'm down with any activity that allows you to drink 24 hours a day.) Mom was a gamer, and so was I that morning when I hit a jackpot for twenty dollars. Unfortunately, the machine ran out of nickels, so I had to flag down an attendant, and she had to flag down her boss. Once the nickels were replenished, I had to scoop an endless amount of coins into a cup. I soon learned that winning a jackpot on the nickel slots is like having a $20-an-hour part-time job.

After I cashed in my spare change, Johnny the C. and I left the Alamo Center and headed back to Sonoma County.

"You know, I think Susan Hawk wanted me last night."

"Yeah, right."

"I'm serious. She said, 'I want you...' and I think she said, 'I want you to be with me tonight.' But the thing is, I'm really not sure."

"Yeah, I have no doubt she said, 'I want you.' She probably said, 'I want you to stay the hell away from me.'"

"Shut the fuck up."

"She said, 'I want you to paint my house.' Or maybe she said, 'I want you to do my taxes.'"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Wait. I know what Susan Hawk said. She said, 'Jasper, I want you to know that if you were in the desert dying of thirst, I wouldn't so much as squat over you and pee in your mouth.'"

"Goddammit, shut the fuck up."