This is a very sad story, so please try not to laugh.
First, the dramatis personae.
The gentleman on the right is Tommy Womack, a versatile rock utility infielder who's made a lot of excellent music over the years; I particularly recommend an album he did as a member of The Bis-Quits (on John Prine's Oh Boy! label -- look for it) and his solo debut Positively Na-Na, featuring the absolutely brilliant "What Ever Happened to Cheetah Chrome?" (scroll down for a listen).
More to the point, however, the tall, lanky, slighty androgynous blonde in the middle is the redoubtable Marshall Chapman, a fabulous singer/songwriter/guitarist who is the grandniece of Amelia Erhardt and who for a brief moment in the late 70s came this close to being the country-rock Patti Smith or Chrissie Hynde. I interviewed Marshall for Stereo Review back in the 70s and got to know her fairly well. I also had a mad crush on her, which is to say I would have killed to boink her, and the same might have been said for the twenty or thirty people I dragged to her shows over the years. Men, women, gay, straight -- everybody wanted her.
Anyway, sometime in '79, I think, my first wife and a few friends went to see her at some dive in NYC, and when the show was over, they went to another bar down the street while I went backstage to pay my respects. Marshall then proceeded to put her arm around me (have I mentioned that she's like 6'1"?), and said to me (have I mentioned that her voice is a breathy marvel, like Katherine Hepburn with a southern drawl?) and I quote: "Steve -- have you got a girlfriend tonight?"
Shmuck that I am, I allowed as how, oh gosh, I'm sorry, but yeah I do, and said my goodbyes. Fifteen minutes later I had rejoined the wife, and told her the story. At which point she looked at me as if I was some kind of mongrel idiot and said "You didn't go home with her? Are you out of your mind? Don't you know that someday you're going to be 87 years old and sitting on a park bench in Miami, and you're going to think back on not having grabbed the chance to boink her -- and you're going to have a stroke and die?"
My first wife, folks.
I told you this was a sad story. Please -- try not to laugh...
Postscript: In 2003, Marshall wrote Goodbye Little Rock and Roller, an absolutely lovely autobiographical memoir (in which that episode does not, alas, appear) and you should order it from Amazon pronto. It comes with a CD of some of her best songs, BTW.