Whiskey laughed.  “Opera?  You mean like fat ladies breaking glass?  Not in this lifetime.  But rock opera, hey, that’s just a bunch of songs under one theme.  I think it would be interesting.  A lot of the big bands have done it.”<br/><br/>“Um, actually, the name’s Jeri.  Or Whiskey.  Doesn’t matter which you call me.  Whiskey’s just my alter-ego.  She can belt it out live on stage and love it, whereas Jeri,” she held up her hands and shrugged, “has trouble with a normal conversation sometimes.  If I don’t turn into Whiskey onstage, I won’t have the nerves to stand in front of thousands of people.”  She grinned crookedly.  “I’ve heard Cher has terrible stage fright.”<br/><br/>“Now you, on the other hand, have got it all together.  I can see that, and I wish I was like you.  But, hey, you have to work with the hand you’re dealt.  I’m just glad Whiskey is there for me when I need her.”  She blushed.  “I guess that sounds rather stupid, huh?”<br/><br/>“By the way, you have a great accent.  It sounds so sultry and mysterious.  I would be happy to share the mike with you sometimes.”<br/><br/><br/>