Music artist Penny knows all about her bass. A cynic, in a little too perfect but almost boring life with a constantly absentee husband. Her life takes a twist when she lands herself a wonderful opportunity at a studio that allows her to breathe out...
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DECEMBER 15, 2016
My mind wanders while my hands are thumping on my bass. I wonder if anybody would be able to pay attention to the lyrics with all the loud music this band is playing. The drummer is going berserk and so is the lead, screaming vocals on something about inequality or injustice, or maybe they just hate their parents, I don't know. At this point, I feel everyone is trying really hard to stay together, which isn't so bad considering this band is playing for the very first time in front of an actual audience. The guitarist, an older guy, with whitish hair, styled with gel, nods at me in consolation, like it will all be over soon.
I have played at open mics before, and it's sort of challenging for me because I don't have a band, and I am not a regular performer here. Nor do I have purple hair with piercings all over my face, an electric guitar, or an attitude that says piss off. So normally, I wait in long queues to find a band to play with and usually, I get to perform with suicidal teenagers whose band is missing a bassist, which is not as bad as it sounds, considering that they chose to play and sing about it rather than actually making an attempt.
Our performance is over by now and I am the first one to unstrap and get off the stage before anybody makes any conversation or asks for my number. I start to quest for the loo, and find a stranded door in the nearly deserted alley down the hall and disappear inside. In the mirror, I look like a twenty-nine-year-old from the crypt. My face looks unusually pale with bags under my drooping eyes like I haven't slept in ages. When the truth is, I sleep too much these days, not during the night actually, during the day at odd hours. Then complain when a ringing phone, a doorbell, or dumb chirping birds disturb me. Other than that, my lips, which have a nice bow shape, are pulled downward in a permanent frown. For which I have no justification, except that, if anyone would have been in my shoes, their face would look the same. I need a miracle or a potion for instant fixation, an elixir of happiness.
Letting the water run through my fingers, I continue my musings, asking myself why am I here again, sans friends, when I don't have a band and I am not a musician who needs practice or a nascent learner. Because sometimes you need to prove to yourself that you can go out on your own, watch a movie alone, have dinner alone, and play at open mics alone. So what if the world doesn't want to hang out with you and all your friends have left you. Life does not end there. Okay, so that's not true, I reflect as I give myself a mental shake. I am here because Adam called me in today, saying he wants to meet me, and without going into much detail, I said I'll come. So here I am and he is not. So I thought I'd pass my time jamming, which I did, and now, I am hiding from a band that I doubt even knows my name.
For a while, I hunch over my cell phone in a corner by the pillar, and when the waiting seems to get overbearing, I dial Adam. Just as I do, I see him, at the end of the row where the cafe is, holding a can of soda with two other men, immersed in an animated conversation. They find a table at the rare end of the hall, and if I hadn't seen them go there, I would have never seen them at all. I ramble towards the cafe, but instinctively, I am hesitant to reach out. It might be that the men with Adam have a work thing going on and wouldn't want me at the table. I look at the phone, the seconds ticking, Adam has picked up the phone but I disconnect the call. I can see him craning his neck to find me, and I think it would get awkward if I am just standing there staring straight at him or at the table so I stick myself to the counter and pretend to buy something. I pay for a water bottle and turn around, gather my cool and walk up to the table where Adam is smiling expectantly at me.
