No Clue Studios

The Rotation

I never thought of myself as much of a socialite. Actually, I actively try to avoid confrontation. When I'm excluded from conversation or happen to be alone in a crowded place, I end up staring at my phone. I beat myself about the ladder quite a bit. I begin to sweat at the thought of judgment from others, until I look up and notice a large percentage of the room doing the exact same thing as me. As I looked back down at my phone to reply to a text I haven't received - the trick is to really convince people you're engaged in the conversation by looking confused or concerned at the conversation that isn't actually happening, as you type out a message - I look up to see a familiar face. Not so familiar that a greeting goes without question, but the kind of familiar that makes accidental eye contact awkward enough to warrant saying, "hi". He came up to me, I smiled and shook his hand as we brought it in for a pat on the shoulder.

"How are you bro?"

"I'm good. Just out for some music. You?"

"Same. You know I'm not much of a player but I just started a business and I could use the networking."

"Oh yeah? What business?"

"A music studio. I've started recording bands and shit...HEY! If you're ever looking to record I-"

"Nah man. I'm alright."

"Gotcha. Well, if you change your mind, you have my number. Just hit me up. First session is on me."

These are the conversations I try to avoid. These are the conversations I either end or walk away from.

I don't want to be sold your brand new personality cloaked in a business idea because you fell for an ad on social media while dropping out of school. In 60 seconds they hooked you, and convinced you that you could hook me. A pyramid scheme of sorts. And yet, you failed. I may not be the best clientele for this approach but still, in this case, chalk me up with the "95% unresponsive" statistic.

In my defense, I was just out for a drink and some music, and the idea of a sales pitch never crossed my mind. In a sense, I was caught off-guard. In his defense, I asked about the business.

Refocusing I notice the band is taking a set break. Back to my phone.

"Geo! how are ya?"

Classic midwestern excitement - unsure if they're genuine, condescending, or just on autopilot from years of being blindly nice to people. I rapidly moved my phone towards my pocket like when you're caught watching porn in public, and immediately realized there was no reason to do that, but impulses emerged victorious. And that's how you get someone to think you're watching porn in public.

"He" in this case is an area bass player Rodney, whose talent vibrates exponentially into the ears of every single listener. He's the kind of guy who would show up to someone else's gig and end up finishing out the night on stage, taking the final solo.

"Hey Rodney, what's up bro? You sitting in tonight?"

Blind politeness right back at his ass.

"Nah not tonight, man..."

That's bull shit. Two hours from now he'll be called up to the stage, breaking a conversation he was having at the bar with whatever woman had seen him play the week before. He would eventually leave that conversation to play, and after he was done, leave the club...with her. The usual routine. I'm not mad at him though. If I had his talent and knack for extraversion, I'd milk that lethal combination too.

The truth is, I'll probably get called up to play as well. Only with me, I don't have that "wow" factor. Don't get me wrong, I can hold a tune and play above average but nothing worthy of getting a different girl every week to come home with me. I play keys, and know the keyboard player in the band, Peter pretty well. In fact, I know the whole band pretty well. They call themselves, "The Rotation" due to the loose formation of the group, given it's a weekly gig and everyone can't always make it. I've sat in a few weeks, and try to see them play when I can.

"You here with anyone?" Rodney asked me in a more genuine tone than before.

"Nope, solo dolo tonight!" Immediately questioning my word choice.

Notice how Rodney didn't care to ask if I was sitting in? I guess that speaks more to my insecurities though. I actually knew Rodney would be mid-flirtation at the bar later because that's usually where I see him when I happen to be playing. It's also another reason I assume I don't have that "wow" factor. If I did, Rodney would notice. I've wanted to start a band with him for a while, but I need him to react to my playing first. Without that, he may passively agree if asked, but would put it on the back burner in his schedule eventually causing the group to fizzle. I needed him to want to work with me.

"Smooth, well I'm gonna grab a drink with Greg over there. Feel free to join us."

"Sure thing!"

Greg was another premiere player on the scene, only he played drums.

I went over to join them at the bar and in another fit of blind Midwestern kindness I ordered everyone a round I could not afford, including an old-timer who happened to compliment my jacket and said he's seen me play and I'm, as he put it, "not bad at all..." It sounded like he was gonna go on but I guess he was just too enamored by my jacket.

Of the three of us musicians, Greg was the first to get called up to start out the bands second set. I kept looking over at Rodney with a side eye, trying to keep my head as fixated towards the stage as possible. He was paying attention to the band, which may have something to do with the fact that a bass player wrote the original song they were playing, but I saw it as an attention span I intended to capture. I had to get called up next if I had any chance.

After the song ended, I heard my name get called to the stage. I sat at the Fender Rhodes, played a Bb minor chord to wet my whistle and looked up for the song directions.