How Not To Be A Groupie

Chapter Eleven: Cliff Williams

Glasses and bottles clanked around in the rowdy bar. The boys had all decided to make a quick stop here before they went off to bed. All of course, except Angus who went to change out of his uniform. And who knew if he would even show up to this place.

I had no clue I'd be coming to this place. 

Cliff said he'd have one or two drinks but he mostly came for the food. It was a little around seven and neither of us had really eaten much lately. So I agreed on having the interview here. 

I stepped over a man who was-I hope-sleeping on the floor. There was beer all over the wall where a bottle had been smashed, glass shards everywhere. I didn't see the others in the sea of people until I saw Malcolm and Phil playing darts and Bon starting up a game of pool with some people he just met. Even they looked out of place on this pirate ship.

There were some women there too but they didn't look like the kind of people you'd mess around with. Painted nails, leather jackets, several tattoos, cigarettes, and huge bottles of whiskey. Those motorcycles I saw parked outside must have been theirs. 

Cliff led me to a quieter part of the bar. He ordered a water and a whiskey, apparently hearing from Bon that I didn't drink. I thanked him and took a long drink. 

"Ya' like chips, right?"

I remembered the Aussie word for fries was chips and nodded. He ordered a couple trays of that and asked if I wanted anything else. I mean...I had been trying to eat healthier recently but I wasn't about to complain about people buying me food. I'd eat chips for days if I had to. Deciding these would be enough, he got some other kind of food I didn't quite catch and we got situated at our table. 

"So," he said, his voice clear over the din. "What's your first order of business?"

I slapped my notebook on the table and flipped to a fresh page. During the photo shoot I had come up with some questions I could ask instead of coming up blank on the spot. I was improving! I took out my pen. "What about AC/DC do you like best?" I asked. "Of all the bands you could have joined, why this one?"

Cliff folded his hands together on the table and stared at the salt shaker. I held my pen at the ready. "The guys are great, first off." I nodded, agreeing completely. "Ya' don't wanna be in a band where everyone's drivin' a flagpole up your arse, ya' know?" 

"Yeah."

"An' I enjoy the music we play," he said sipping his drink. "The old bands I was in...played a bit of rock an' roll...played the Kinks. When we were gettin' started, anyway. This band...when I first heard of 'em, they played...probably the loudest rock an' roll I've ever heard. In my life, ya' know? An' some friends of mine were suggestin' I try out for 'em an' I gave it shot."

There was some cheering on the other side of the bar. Someone must have been celebrating a birthday with friends. It was difficult to see what I was writing in the light but I managed. Someone came by carrying a tray with our food and we accepted it, hungry and happy. I grabbed a napkin before picking my pen up again. "You're from England, right?" I asked, pretending I didn't know. He nodded. "You live in Australia now?"

"Yeah, for the time being. Took a damn long time to actually move here...so I'm not lookin' to pack up an' leave anytime soon." I spilled crumbs all over my notebook and wiped them off. Little dark spots covered the pages. "But I imagine we'll end up movin' someday. Sometimes ya' don't get the studio ya' wanted or...if ya' have a family an' ya' wanna give them a steady home somewhere."

"Where would you live?" I asked. He wiped his hands. 

"Someplace warm," he said immediately. "I love England but it's cold up there. Snow is great. But it gets way more rain. So I'd live someplace like Sydney here, where it's warmer. Maybe tropical. What about you?"