Dancing with Joan Jett

 

Dancing close with Joan Jett is so wild, it’s 1988 and we go head to head. I’m the teen kid by the juke box and she is my wet dream in black leather, one foot in front of me. Pure bloody ecstasy. Garage music blares out of the speakers and we spin around, my arm catching her waist. Closer we draw; a kiss. First of many.

 

Joan and Nick. Who w...