I was here to start over. I was here because in a city where everyone was so different that no one is different. I walked into an empty convent store. Everything that you would never need was in there it wasn't big or clean, but I was really hungry and I was in NYC and for once I had more than ten bucks. So I got a Coke and a "Freshly baked donut," I can tell you, it wasn't.

I walked down the New York streets having nothing but my guitar and the clothes on my back. I was nothing more than a western boy and I was way out of my league. I decided that the first thing that I had to do was to find an apartment. So I walked around and any sign that said For Rent I would walk in. I found not after long I realized I had to look above the store on the bottom. It was funny this city was like a forging language you learn fast, you have to learn fast or else you will not survive.

It had gotten late and I didn't know what to do, but I figured if I got drunk I wouldn't notice that I was forced to slept on the street. So I walked into a club with cheap neon lights. The club was much more crowed than the ones back home.

I still had my guitar, which was a little weird, but I wasn't about to set it down. All of the tour books said never do anything stupid like that. I was starting to find that tour books had no idea what they were talking about. They were for tourist and I guess that if you live in New York then you are bound to get mugged sometime.

"Kid, what do you want?"

"What?"

"To drink, what do you want to drink?"

"Uhm…. A beer." I handed him my ID I was twenty-two and I still got asked for my ID a lot. The bar tender looked at me like I was crazy.

"Are you a tourist?"

"No," I was proud to finally not be a tourist, but my answer seemed to puzzle this man that I was losing patience with so quickly.

"Then did you just move here?"

"What are you getting at? Why are you pestering me with these questions?"

"Because you showed me your ID."

"Because I showed you my ID you think I am a tourist."

"No, because you showed me your ID I think that you don't know what you are doing. I don't know if anyone has told you but we don't give a damn about ID's here," He paused for a while as if deciding something, "Your not a cop are you?"

"No, I am a musician, but why would it matter."

"Because I am supposed to check ID's, thought everyone has a fake ID so I don't know why it matters. And about being a musician about half of the people in this room are musicians. Thought maybe one has even an amateur record deal."

He gave me my beer and then I heard screaming in the back of the room saying, "No get away from me." It was a woman's voice I thought that maybe I could help her, me being the southern man that I am. I ran back there. No one else seemed to care. When I got there their were two black guys standing over this woman on the floor.

"What is going?" I impatiently asked.

"She is our roommate and she is dead drunk we are just trying to get her home so she doesn't hurt herself," The man who said this was darker and taller than the other.

"Lets get her out of this crowed!" I screamed to be heard over the crowed.

"To the bathroom, then," said the other man, "She will go with you."

"Then I will take her."

I reached down to help her up. She suddenly throwing her arms around me, and twisting my hair.

"Hi handsome, do you have a name?" She grabbed my belt buckle and I got nervous.

"What you don't like me?" She gave a sick puppy face and I turned to my left to see if one of her roommates for advice.

"Just go with it," The shorter one said but it sounded more like an idea than a command. "Tell her that you want to go to the bathroom with her, it will get her out of here quick."

"Come on I want to go somewhere we can talk." It didn't sound convincing it me but to her it must have.

"Ok, let's go and 'talk'" I had no idea what I was going to do when we got there but it worked for now.

"I just got an idea why don't we got to your place instead we will be more comfortable there."

"Ok, I can't wait to go." She began to climb on me like a cat still holding my belt buckle and almost using it to climb up. The closer she got the more I could spell her breath that smelled harshly of alcohol.

We walked out of the bar, this girl who I have yet to know her name still holing on to my belt, dragging me down the streets of New York City.

"Roger, my name is Roger." I had a habit of spilling out my name when it got most weird.

"My name doesn't matter." She said.

We got to her apartment and she headed for one of the beds. The shorter man slammed the door, and locked it.

"Gosh, Collins baby, why are you so angry. I am trying to get some."

"Maureen, you're not getting any tonight," said Collins in fury.

"You can get up" he pointed to me I stood behind him.

The girl, Maureen, ran up to me and started pulling off my shirt and said, "Come on he is just jealous. Come to the bathroom the door locks there." She slowly pulled me to the bathroom, I felt powerless to this person the taller man pushed her in the bathroom and slammed the door.

"Sorry about her, she is Maureen and I am Benny." He shook out his hand for me to shake and I shock it.

"I'm Roger."

"Collins, Maureen isn't so bad when she isn't drunk," said the shorter man.

"So why did you come to help your, not a New Yorker are you," said Benny

"I just became one I just moved here."

"Where are you staying?" asked Collins and what made me smile was because he seemed like her really cared.

"No where." I said I was ashamed to admit it but it was true.

"Stay with us, Maureen isn't as much of a nightmare as she appears. She will sober up in a few hours and then she is going to be walking around with anything frozen on her head." Benny said laughing at the fact.