Cyndi Lauper came to me one time. In a typical New York tone she asked me what the fuck I was looking at and after I reminded her that she had come to me, she smiled, called me a prick and playfully punched my arm.Cyndi and I had that kind of relationship, where you could never be quite sure where you stood. It was OK. I knew what I was getting myself in for and it never much mattered to me how she treated me anyhow, I just wanted to be around her.
"Cyndi and I are friends, she gets me." I'd tell anybody that'd listen. "Trouble is we're both so busy."
Truth be told, I'd only met her three times but I knew what we felt transcended time, that nothing meant anything before.
Before her.
Before us.
Before this.
Cyndi Lauper changed my life.
She gave me my smile back.
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