met Myra on July 26, 1991.
    At the time I was on my way to becoming completely oblivitated during a rave, but most of my weekends began that way back then, for better or worse (mostly worse). But that night was different. For one Andrea didn't drop any acid, meth or X. It was the end of the month or something. Or maybe she was just burnt out, because she abandoned me at the makeshift bar at about 1:30 and vanished with a guy named Pablo or Peter or ... well, it's too long ago now to remember anyway. The point is, she left me there - in and of itself isn't that unusual. Andrea did that to me all the time. Drag me someplace and then either get so drunk or high that she'd forgotten she'd came with me.
    We had a couple of fights about it after I was forced to find a cab to get me home. Her solution was to get a second set of car keys for me, despite the fact I never came away from one of these sober. But then again, neither did Andrea. Sometimes roommates just suck.
    Anyway, I was sitting at the bar drinking something that was either orange or red mixed into beer. It didn't taste all that great, but it didn't make me puke either, so I kept ordering a refill mostly out of fear of switching to something that would. My world was growing fuzzy with hard, thumping techno and the rising heat of a warehouse packed with jumping, screaming people, and then this girl sat down next to me.
  I did a quick look over and she was sitting on the chair, facing out to the dance floor. She was typical pale, dressed in black, her dark hair cut in a bob. One thing that stuck out was the backpack. Not exactly unusual, but it looked packed with stuff and not clothes. The way it hung on her, it looked like it must be filled with bricks.
    I looked down at my half empty cup of liquid and decided what I was drinking must be purple.
    I glanced back at the girl next to me and I lingered a bit longer. She was scanning the dance floor, but there was something about the way she was doing it that seemed odd. She was strangely alert, I decided from my fuzzy world. Most of the people in here were either high from bouncing off the walls or slowly becoming zombies. She was neither, I felt.
    "Are you lost?" I said, probably too soft, but I can never judge my voice in one of these places.
    But she heard something and her head slowly turned my way, "What?"
    "You look lost," I repeated and I locked eyes with her. They were brown or dark blue, the lighting sucks. But her gaze was mesmerizing. I think I actually felt something in that second.
    "No," she said without looking away.
    She was beautiful in a plain sort of way. Non-descript, but I was sure I wouldn't forget her. I'm sorry, that sucks, but it's close to the truth. I felt like I was studying her face.
    I realized she was still staring at me and I hadn't said anything. Any second she was going to look away and whatever moment I was sharing with her was about to evaporate.
    "Did you loose your friends?" I finally said.
    She got a perplexed look on her face and her eyes glanced around the room, but she still was facing me. As she came back to me, the puzzled look vanished and this, oh-yeah look replaced it.
    "No," she said. "I didn't come here with anyone."
    Now that was an odd statement, I thought. I didn't think anyone came to this kind of a rave alone. Wasn't that asking for trouble? But then my eyes shot to the backpack. Maybe she's got a shoulder cannon in there?
    "Then who are you looking for?"
    "Trouble," I swear she mumbled. It was hard to tell, but a little bell went off in my head.
    And it rang poli-narc.