One of these younger reporters moonlighted periodically for The Beat magazine, probably just using the side-job as an excuse to hang out with jazz mus...cians downtown. Pete Elliot, writer and jazz enthusiast became my best friend at the paper, and often dragged me to smoky clubs, where stereotypical skinny men with goatees and berets hung out with statuesque brunettes with long long cigarette holders. Everyone dressed in black turtlenecks. I didn't get it.Neither did the real musicians.Pete and. " she replied."you're nice looking,that dress looks good on you I bet your boyfriend tells you that too." i told her."well I don't have a boyfriend at the moment but thank you for the compliment, very nice" she said."well I don't wanna take up your time you have other customers to attend to so I'll see you around." i told her.She stopped me."oh you don't have to leave hon, you're not bothering me,we're closed today for inventory but thank you for your compliments i'm really enjoying talking to. Katty was bar hopping with her roommate Bob. They started up town and were ending the night at a bar they know as a second home, called The Adventure. The plan was to pick up someone someone to take back to the apartment for each of them. Katty was hammered but still danced to the music with a fire in her. Bob was dancing with a black haired beauty named Jessica. Katty was grinding against a man about 24 years old.Tom: Want to take this back to my place?Katty didn't answer him, she grabbed him. If I didn't, another wonderfully unique girl would also suffer and die.If only my abilities would allow me to trade places with her."Oh, God, Anna ... I ... can't ... if only you knew how special you were."She seemed to calm. Maybe she found acceptance that quickly. Maybe she had suddenly become incredibly fatalistic. Maybe she realized that her being calm was the only way to calm me ... the only way to get done what needed doing.What an empath, even an untrained one, any of that, or all of it,.