‘Just can’t make love all the time.’

Joe Diamond was playing a honkey tonk joint in Shreveport, Louisiana, when he looked out into the crowd during a slow song. The stage lights were low and the hall lights were up a little bit more than usual, and he saw a myna bird that made him lose his place. She may not have been the best-looking myna bird ever, but she was close. Joe Diamond thought he’d never seen a bird so fine.
Right after that song he took a break to the booing of the crowd. They always booed if he quit playing. If the crowd had its way ol’ Joe Diamond would never take a break and just play all night. It took him awhile to find her because she’d been holding it ‘till he did take a break along with a bunch of other girls and you know how girls can get when they all get in the bathroom together.
Joe Diamond came face to face with her at the back bar. He had no idea what to say.
He wanted to say something like “you're the best looking bird I’ve ever seen,” but the words just wouldn’t come.
“Hey, you’re Joe Diamond,” Betsy Byrd exclaimed upon seeing him up close.
“Hey, you sure are pretty, what’s your name?” Joe Diamond said after a moment’s pause.
“I’m Betsy Byrd.”
“Well pleased to meet you Betsy Baird.”
“No, it’s Byrd, like myna-bird.”
Joe thought he was gonna die. “You make me nervous, I think I’d rather be dancing now...but who’s gonna play if I don’t. You must meet me after so we can go dancing in New Orleans.”
“But I have a boyfriend.”
“He doesn’t love you like I do.” Joe looked her square in the eyes and somehow she knew it was true. The rest, as they, say is history. (Look on the cover it says fiction, you and I both know this would never fly in real life, then again neither should bumble bees).
Three weeks later they were in Midland-Odessa, playing in a joint so small two cigarettes could fog out the place.
“Joe, why don’t you give it up and settle down with me?”
Joe Diamond almost coughed up beer through his nose. “Baby, I was born to play. If I don’t play my feathers will fall off and then I’ll die.”
“When we were in New Orleans and we went dancing weren’t you happy then?”
“Of course: I was with you.”
“Didn’t you tell me there was no place you’d rather be than with me?”
“You know I’d love to try but we can’t make love all the time.”
Six months later Betsy was gone, leaving Joe Diamond with a tear in his eye and a pretty big ding in his bank account. He wrote a song called ‘Just can’t make love all the time.’ And he never went dancing in New Orleans again, unless, of course, he was on stage.