The Boss: It’s not friendship or obligation that gets us down to Sticky Thai – it’s morbid fascination, the kind that makes you gawk at a car wreck. Because, be real, maybe A/B can sit around with his thumb up his butt but the rest of us are pretty busy, tour-prep-wise. Are we really motivated to hook up for lunch? Not so much.

We’ll be spending the next month in close quarters, stinking up the van with Taco Bell or Mickey D’s or whatever slim excuse for nutrition we can grab off the interstate.

“Come on, Stella, this is important to me.” Guilt-tripping is A/B’s forte, and he’s working it big-time on the phone. “Wynn and Kendall already said okay, so you have to.”

“What do you mean have to?” I retort, booking it to my hair appointment. “I have to get a ‘fro mow, I have to buy Wynn a birthday present, I do not have to sit down to pad thai with you people.”

“It’s not just us,” he baits me. “It’s…you have to meet someone.”

I am not playing; I don’t bite, just swing into the salon with a “yo!” So A/B’s like: “Stella? You there?” and I’m like, “I gotta go, A/B, so stop fooling and get to the point.”

“Okay, okay – I want you to come meet Edie,” he says, and before I can hit him with a “who?” he rushes out, “my girlfriend.” Girlfriend? Girlfriend! “Fine. Sticky Thai. One thirty. I’ll be there.”

My next move is to have my stylist add a hot oil treatment to my trim. I just want my hair in good shape for the road. What do I care if this Edie sees me looking busted? Kendall, now, she’s gotta be losing her s***. That rails me before we leave. Plus, truth, she hasn’t been bugging me so much lately. Look, she was the only one who stood up with me when I called Brian out about our tour plans. And we’re both on the same page as to the specifics – i.e., how bad they suck. Club tour, ha! More like Poverty Tour. Brian’s having us hit every s*** hole between Orlando and Las Vegas so we can “hone our chops” and “become a mean, lean performing machine” and blah-blah-blah. No private rooms – we’ve got to share. No swank tour bus – just a crappy van.

Whatever. I go to the Thai place convinced I’m gonna be picking up little pieces of Kendall Taylor before the green-tea ice cream is served.