Free Queen Unseen by Peter Hince Page B

guitar when the bed sheet was pulled back and my new ‘potential future ex-wife’ kissed me good morning – in two places. I finished on the phone and turned around to see my southern belle at the end of the bed, where she had uncovered the shrouded shape. It was a bird cage, which was now open – and its occupants, a toucan, a cockatoo and some parakeets, were hopping up the bed. My ecstasy quickly turned to agony and I froze, telling her urgently of my concerns as I lay there stark naked. My relaxed muscles had all tightened hard and my hard muscle had relaxed completely. Had these peckers been fed yet? And what were they used to pecking on? For a moment I thought I was in some B-movie horror, where young men’s members are fed to exotic birds by a crazed harpie.
    ‘Yow downe nade tuh wurry they shure wone bite y’all,’ she assured me.
    Back at rehearsals at the Convention Centre, we had finished shooting a quick video with the new ‘Pizza Oven’ lighting rig for ‘Fat Bottomed Girls’, when I told my story of this slim and firm-bottomed girl to Fred. He thought it was wonderful, and was in hysterics. I had never seen him laugh so hard – he was almost in pain. Sexual conquest teamed with misadventure is a compelling combination. He then told me of his own previous evening’s antics… I believe he had just encountered the entire Dallas Cowboys (or some other group of muscular men in ten gallon hats). There is nothing like the feeling after you have pulled, it’s gone well and you didn’t disgrace yourself. As another Queen member once remarked: ‘It puts a spring in your step and a smile on your face.’
    In the 1970s, America had establishments that would certainly put a smile on your face – table dancing clubs, or ‘titty bars’ as they were known. Long before lap or pole dancing, these were bars where young ladies danced at and on your table. And being America one was expected to tip the performers. I’m fine with that. The girls were generally topless – depending on state law. Some states allowed girls to be topless but their nipples had to be covered with flesh-coloured sticking plasters/Band-Aids. These bars were very popular with the band and crew and, being with an English rock band, we were immediately interesting and attracted a lot of attention from the girls at places such as The Harem Club, Patio Show Bar and The Kit-Kat in Boston’s Combat Zone.
    We all want to be desired, and to have girls keen to sleep with you gives a great feeling of power that you revel in – a reassurance of your charm, style, looks and personality. Ormaybe the allure of backstage passes? But it was a ‘cute’ English accent that magically opened up many doors in America – ‘You God-damn Limeys and yer fancy accents! Stealing all our women!’ some of the jealous and unsuccessful American crew would rant.
    I saw it as a bit of retaliation for the flash US GIs who steamrolled through our towns and villages during World War II with teasing offers of nylons and chocolate to the fair maidens of England. They just wanted to get their leg over as much as I did.
    Now where attracting women was concerned, I always considered that my nose was a bit too big, but in rock ’n’ roll it can be a positive bonus – probably nowhere else, save the circus. Many rock stars have prominent beaks: Pete Townshend, Ronnie Wood, Jeff Beck, even John Deacon’s or Brian May’s noses could hardly be described as ‘petite’. All of these were guitar players, which is what I longed to be in my early teens as I strummed in the bedroom on my red Vox Stroller.
    Sadly, a distinct lack of talent and coordination, coupled with the years of dedication and practice required, halted my progress as a guitar legend. I had perfected a few good poses though.
    The opportunity to listen to music for free and meet girls were why I entered the music business and not the world of insurance – and to think I could have stayed working in an