Categories > Celebrities > Motley Crue > FAR to Young to Fall in Love.
It felt like I had been out for hours, but my phone disagreed with me. Only thirty minutes. Thirty minutes in Los Angeles and I couldn’t find anything that begged me to explore. I had managed to walk from end to end of the Sunset Strip and I knew this idea of adventure was not going to get me out of my current state of depression, until I saw a place I knew I could feel close to my mom again: a record store. I had passed dozens by now but there was something about this one. It was almost like the cool breeze that was escaping the front door was calling my name.
I entered and immediately felt at home. My mom had always collected records and some of my fondest memories of her revolved around her and me dancing like idiots in our tiny living room to some of her favorite songs. She had raised me on classic rock and I decided that I needed to start building my own collection. I could have spent eternity in that store. I had been there for less than an hour and I had already acquired Diver Down, Appetite for Destruction, and Slippery When Wet. Although I loved all of those albums, none of them were my favorite. I figured I still had some time on my hands so why not go searching for the one record that I so greatly desired? I dug and dug and finally found it: Shout at the Devil.
Overjoyed with my find I started to head for checkout. As I stood and turned to leave I was met with what felt like a brick wall. Great. It’s my first night in LA and I’m already making “friends.” I quickly gathered my fallen items and apologizing. As I turned my face upward to look its tall, muscular gentleman in the eye I was struck with what could only be described as absolute beauty. I was looking at a pair of pale green eyes that seemed to peer into the deepest parts of my soul. I was captivated.
“I-I’m so, so sorry sir. I didn’t mean to-to run into you. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m sorry.” I managed to get out.
“No it’s cool. Oh, looks like you dropped something,” he said as he bent down to pick up one of my albums that I somehow forgot. “Shout at the Devil. Great album.”
“Yeah, it’s probably my favorite record of all time. I’ve been looking everywhere for a copy of it.”
“Well, you have a great taste in music…”
“Oh, sorry. My name’s Juno.” And that’s when it hit me. This guy didn’t have to tell me who he was, because I already knew. I had run into Nikki Sixx. THE Nikki Sixx. Even better…My first night in LA and I was making a fool of myself in front of one of the most famous rock stars to walk the planet. “And you’re Nikki Sixx. Holy shit. I am so sorry. Fuck. I am such an idiot.”
“No, no. Really it’s cool Juno. Hey, I’ve gotta run, but how about you call me and we can get coffee sometime?” And with that he flashed that famous devilish smirk and handed me a slip of paper with his number scribbled on it.
After that I checked out and started making my way back to the car. When I finally slid into the driver’s seat I had to sit there for a minute and recall what had just happened. I got Nikki Sixx’s number. I ran face first into his chest. I made a fool out of myself yet he still wanted me to call him. What kind of city was this? I didn’t know, but I instantly began loving it.
I entered and immediately felt at home. My mom had always collected records and some of my fondest memories of her revolved around her and me dancing like idiots in our tiny living room to some of her favorite songs. She had raised me on classic rock and I decided that I needed to start building my own collection. I could have spent eternity in that store. I had been there for less than an hour and I had already acquired Diver Down, Appetite for Destruction, and Slippery When Wet. Although I loved all of those albums, none of them were my favorite. I figured I still had some time on my hands so why not go searching for the one record that I so greatly desired? I dug and dug and finally found it: Shout at the Devil.
Overjoyed with my find I started to head for checkout. As I stood and turned to leave I was met with what felt like a brick wall. Great. It’s my first night in LA and I’m already making “friends.” I quickly gathered my fallen items and apologizing. As I turned my face upward to look its tall, muscular gentleman in the eye I was struck with what could only be described as absolute beauty. I was looking at a pair of pale green eyes that seemed to peer into the deepest parts of my soul. I was captivated.
“I-I’m so, so sorry sir. I didn’t mean to-to run into you. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m sorry.” I managed to get out.
“No it’s cool. Oh, looks like you dropped something,” he said as he bent down to pick up one of my albums that I somehow forgot. “Shout at the Devil. Great album.”
“Yeah, it’s probably my favorite record of all time. I’ve been looking everywhere for a copy of it.”
“Well, you have a great taste in music…”
“Oh, sorry. My name’s Juno.” And that’s when it hit me. This guy didn’t have to tell me who he was, because I already knew. I had run into Nikki Sixx. THE Nikki Sixx. Even better…My first night in LA and I was making a fool of myself in front of one of the most famous rock stars to walk the planet. “And you’re Nikki Sixx. Holy shit. I am so sorry. Fuck. I am such an idiot.”
“No, no. Really it’s cool Juno. Hey, I’ve gotta run, but how about you call me and we can get coffee sometime?” And with that he flashed that famous devilish smirk and handed me a slip of paper with his number scribbled on it.
After that I checked out and started making my way back to the car. When I finally slid into the driver’s seat I had to sit there for a minute and recall what had just happened. I got Nikki Sixx’s number. I ran face first into his chest. I made a fool out of myself yet he still wanted me to call him. What kind of city was this? I didn’t know, but I instantly began loving it.
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