Too Many Rock Stars

I don’t date rockers. Don’t sleep with them. Don’t even swap spit. I’ve been working as a band booker at Trouble -- the coolest indie rock club in town -- long enough to know what a bunch of screwed up, egotistical jerks they are. That would be fine if Razer didn’t keep making himself so annoyingly attractive. And he only gets more insistent when the leather-clad Alex hits town. They literally compete for both rock glory and my affection, but all I really want to do is save my job, the club and my heart