I didn’t have a band, but Evan had just moved to New York. I said, “Oh, my band.” “You have a band?” “Of course.” He asked Leisa if I had spent a lot of time around autistic people, which I took as an insult and compliment all in one. I didn’t really believe that she was black until I met her dad. She was whiter than me and she dyed her hair platinum blond, which increased the effect. We rewrote the band’s name by hand at the Xerox place and ran off the posters. It was a good thing that she ran so fast or the band would have been The Sequined Eels. We’d run back to Third Street, giggling, and hide in the apartment. I hated to run after eating, so when I was finished, I would walk out and head up Second Avenue about eight blocks from the restaurant. When we had no money, we used to dine and dash. I was on the way to make the Sequined Eels poster when Leisa came flying down the street, behind me, to tell me that The Lounge Lizards was better, that she had just talked to Jon Ende and that The Lounge Lizards was a better name.
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