i stared at the open doors listening to an awful cover of 'come go with me' by the del vikings coming from the lavish garden on the other side. I've heard a lot of bad singers in my time but oh my was that guy dreadful. i stumbled outside so i could put face to such an awful screeching. i stood before a rather odd teddy looking lad, i mean cmon did he even attempt to learn the lyrics? "hey! HEY! SHUT UP" I shrieked to the guy. "SOD OFF IM IN THE MIDDLE OF A SET 'ERE!" he hurried his words before springing back to singing ( if you could even call it that. )
I sighed looking around me. I've been to only a few garden party's at this specific church but despite that i've heard better skiffles than this.
After what felt like an eternity this motley crew finished their set, i stared at the lead singer. He doesn't look all that put together despite the suit and i'll be it looked awfully nervous. I didn't even intent to but i found myself side by side with the bloke. "i take it back what i said.. ye know? you weren't all that bad" i mumbled quietly in an attempt to come off sincere. "nah don't bother, we were awful! I think me problem is i like a songs melody so i want to play it but then i don't take the time to learn the lyrics." he explained whilst shovelling a ham sandwich down. "do you play?" he asked. i almost didn't understand him over his muffled voice due to the bread taking up most of the space in his mouth.
"yeah..sometimes." i replied sheepishly. sometimes was generous, in all honestly i hadn't picked my guitar up in about a year and i don't think i took it all that seriously when i did play daily. "what do ye play?" now the boy was grinning, like he was plotting something and my answer depended on it entirely. "guitar. i'm not all that good." i uttered humbly fidgeting with my shirt collar. His facial expression changed to disappointed while he aggressively bit another mouth full out of the sandwich. "that's my instrument." he whined.
"i play trumpet too, and i sing! my father says i'm a swell singer" i beamed remembering my fathers words.
"yeah well yer dad could be lying" he snickered stealing the pleasant memory from me.
"oh shut up," i paused realising i didn't even know this chaps name "wait , what's ye name?"
"John, John Winston Lennon" he wiped crumbs off his hand onto his suit just to hold it out to me.
i shook his clammy hand, "James McCartney"
"well then James.. give us a song" he grinned folding his arms.
"right here? like right now?" i paused. i've sang infront of my father and was in choir but this was different, what if i really wasn't as good as i thought i was? On top of that id just made fun of John for not being the next Elvis so i HAVE to be good. "i'm not sure.." i shuffled my feet.
"don't be a baby just show me you can hold a tune" he snarled.
"you know what? your being a massive bully right now so i don't suppose i will" i turned up my nose.
"a massive bully? what are ye five?" he giggled.
i turned red. i always do that, go red. At the worst times and it's the worst because i can feel it, i feel my face go hot and it makes me feel more embarrassed.
"you've, you've gone red" he smiled.
I know it's babyish but sometimes i just can't help it, i felt hot tears form down my cheeks as i stormed off. As i pushed through people to find the nearest bathroom in to calm myself down i heard running on hard wood floor. "JAMES!" i felt John place a steady hand on my shoulder to stop me in my tracks. "Mate i'm sorry. come back outside i'll snag you a beer." he apologised. Now i felt more guilty then embarrassed, i know deep down i'm too sensitive for most people and this whole experience shows it.
We talked for around 3 hours. About everything from music to our home life to girls to favourite foods. I felt connected with somebody for the first time in a while, John was a nice lad and i should probably stay in touch with him.
"me dad will be coming to get me soon so i better go." i announced as i got off the grass and dusted my backside off.
"ah alright. yer mum not care much where you are?" He spoke as he did the same actions i have seconds before so he was standing up next to me.
"oh... erm. no my mum doesn't really care" i lied.
I hopped into my father's car. I looked out the window to see John staring at me with a daft grin on his face kinda like the type of smile special needs people do as he waved me off. i quickly waved back as my dad started driving.
once home i decided to pick up my guitar, i was weirdly inspired by John to start playing again.
