Oh, god, I don't remember his name. It was a hundred years ago. Some typical guy with a crush on the person he thinks I might be. One of those guys that thinks he is rescuing a damsel in distress. He was young, had curly blonde hair, and was kind of cute but I was married and he drank too much. That blouse was gold lame' with black velvet stripes, I never wore it off my shoulder, and the last time I wore it was at a New Year's Eve party somewhere in Colorado. The artist, who was very drunk, while professing his undying love for me, chunked up all over that outfit. It was gold lame'. You can't clean vomit off gold lame'. Oh well. I think the picture was his way of apology.