CHAPTER 17
He lived, died and was buried. That’s how it goes for most of us.
I first met Jeff just over three years ago. My best friend Christina’s cousin Joe was in a band and got the call to support a slightly less unknown band at a local show. He put us on the guestlist.
It was a small venue, with a capacity of 400 or so, and everyone moved around it freely, including the bands. By sheer coincidence, I didn’t see Jeff until he was up on stage.
I was smitten from the moment I laid eyes on him. It wasn’t his obscenely good looks with a symmetrical face, beautiful cheekbones and blue eyes, all aspects of his appeal that many women would have dismissed because of his numerous tattoos and unflattering dress sense – he was wearing that Alice In Chains t-shirt, tattered even back then, and
