leftovers

I met Amy Crosby in either late 2000 or early 2001, at a gay bar in the valley. I don't remember exactly which one, because I had seen her here and there at various Karaoke nights, where I had noticed her amazing ability to sound just like the artist she was emulating. Whether it was Cher, Alanis, Melissa Ethridge, or Traci Bonham, Amy would get up on stage and channel her inner diva. I think the first time I got up the courage to speak to her was at Apache in Studio City, which like many places I frequented in my twenties in Los Angeles, is no longer there. At the time she had her hair bleached blond and was adopting more of a "lipstick lesbian" persona, due to the fact that the "police were after her" after some sort of car accident or something. I thought, boy this girl is interesting! From the first moment we met she was telling me tall tales that seemed too incredible to be true, her (at the time) partner Von by her side, deadpan, not giving me any indicati