I have often been asked what my first time I became a barbarian was like. So this is the experience, even though words will never do it justice.
When I was young (ask and I'll tell you how old), I worked in broadcasting. I was a tall, skinny, long haired, bearded wild ass cowboy in the manner of Waylon and Willie. I had a deep voice, piercing blue eyes and an attitude that was completely different than most in my rural community. I rode rough stock, ran around with a crazy crowd and jumped into life with no thought of consequences. I'd spent a few nights in jail for disorderly conduct, but I got along with most people pretty well.
I did the evening drive program on the big, old clear channel AM station. People liked me and I made damn good money. Really good, considering I was still in high school. Not many knew that though. My boss was a promoter. They pushed the idea that I was a hell raiser (actually true) and played up the long haired cowboy image. My promotional poster had a bottle of Jack Daniels on my desk and a hand rolled cigarette beside it. I supplied both.
My boss was going out of town for the week. His wife, Bonnie, was home alone with her new baby daughter. She was something. She was 32 and was quite the looker. Blond hair, hot body, about 5'2" tall, she was one of the sexiest women in our area and she knew it. People said she was a bitch and a tease. She had always been kind of aloof at station functions.