by Nathan Davey
Now on the screen, were two pleasant looking people sitting on a brown couch. They were in a lit TV studio. The large window behind them looked out onto the South Bank in London. I could see people wearily walking to work across the bridge, boats floating along in the Thames, red London buses whizzing by and I could also see St. Paul’s Cathedral standing tall in the background. Even at this hour (8:00am according to the little digital clock in the corner of the screen) it still looked quite dark in London.
The woman (who was so heavily covered in make up that she looked almost bright orange) was just introducing the first guest of the day. The guest was a contestant a TV talent show which was looking for young dancers. The guy was quite young (I’d say around my age) and yet his face was even more orange then the presenters. This phenomenon has seemingly come out of nowhere. Since when was it considered beautiful to have a bright orange face. Seriously! I don’t get it. Where did that come from? We watched him for a little while. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone say the phrase “at the end of the day” as many times as he does. Almost every sentence began with it and it began to get embarrassing. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I got up and went to the bathroom for a shower.
I went into the shower and discovered that it was an extremist shower. If you hadn’t heard of this term before, this is basically what it means. Even though the shower presents you with a dial that can twist all the way round, you only get two options of temperature. You can have it either hot or cold. You have to choose between being frozen and being scolded. I’d always go for freezing if this situation ever arose. I think it’s always better to be cold then to be too hot. You don’t burn, you don’t dehydrate, you don’t get headaches, you don’t sweat and you don’t stick to the leather couch if you stay there too long.
I was having the cold shower when the door opened, Nick entered with a book, lifted the toilet seat, pulled his trousers down and sat on the toilet. I looked at him in-between the curtains in shock. Nick, it would seem, had no thought to what he was doing as if it were completely normal. He was happily reading his copy of Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh while he emptied his bowels. Showers are meant to be relaxing places. I couldn’t exactly be relaxed when this was going on outside of my curtain.
“Nick?” I asked,
“Oh hello mate!” said Nick talking in a casual way, it was almost as if he had no idea that he was taking a dump right in front of me, “have a nice sleep?”
“Yeah it was alright” I replied, deciding that I wouldn’t draw any attention to it, “were you hot last night?”
“Yeah I was hot” he said, I shuddered when I heard a distinctive “plop” sound from the toilet bowl, “I had to put my leg out at one point I was so hot. I knew that there was something going on between you and…what’s her name again?”
“It’s Lizzie” I replied, “But nothing was going on with us before last night”
“What?” he asked, “you mean she only just kissed you?”
“Yeah, pretty much”
“Rock on!”
I smiled back at him before closing the curtain and going back into the shower. I heard the toilet flush and the lid fall down a few moments later. Nick left the room and closed the door behind him. I finished up in the shower, got out and dried myself off with a complimentary towel. It was a nice towel. Then I began to wonder; Does THIS count as a freebie? I’ll ask Lizzie later.
Later on, as we were fully dressed and heading down to breakfast, it turned out those towels only counted as freebies if you were not caught taking them out. Lizzie told me that the maids continuously change the towels and are easily lost. As long as the towel is tucked away in a case where no one will find it, the hotel workers shouldn’t really notice that you took it at all.
The others were already in the breakfast room eating away at many Full English Breakfasts. Out of everything that the British have contributed to the world, I believe that the Full English Breakfast is the one to be the most proud of. My perfect Full English would include some Cumberland sausages, the smoked bacon, the hash browns, the fried eggs and the baked beans. There are many varied versions which can include mushrooms, tomatoes and maybe even some black pudding.
I and Lizzie were broke. So we sat among the others and nibbled away at some buttered toast that came with the table. We were content with this until a waiter came to us and placed two large breakfasts in front of us. We were confused at first and looked back at the waiter baffled. The waiter was about to go when Lizzie called him back.
“I’m sorry” she began, “but we didn’t order a breakfast”
“I know you didn’t” said Stewie, who was for some reason looking a bit bashful, “I ordered them. Just to say thanks for carrying my bass. It was the least I could do.”
“Thank you” we said together. Stewie smiled at that before going back to eating his rashes of bacon.
We thankfully tucked into our breakfasts. Blimey they were fantastic! Everything was cooked to perfection. The bacon was succulent, the eggs weren’t too runny, and the sausages were cooked just right and tasted amazing when dipped in the baked bean sauce. I have no idea how many times we thanked Stewie for paying for the meal. It must have been at least ten times throughout the day. We couldn’t believe that he’d spend his money on complete strangers like us. It was so nice that it touched us. We completely forgot about how rude he was when we first met him. He shall always be in my memory as a nice bloke, simple as.
We didn’t really do an awful lot during the day, at least not much that I can really write that much about. We just moved from café to café drinking tea and chatting about nothing in particular. We and the band talked about our favourite music, films and books and so on, those usual topics of conversation that pop up when you have nothing else to talk about.
Lizzie and Ritchie got into a long chat about the American sitcom Friends, they were even quoting their favourite lines and jokes to each other. Some of the others joined in and stated their favourite jokes from the show. When someone told the group of their favourite moment, everyone would laugh at the memory of watching it. It was a pleasant and light hearted conversation, as we were talking about a pleasant and light hearted television show.
I was really beginning to like these guys. I told myself to try to not get too fond of these guys. The mission I set for myself and Lizzie was to go around the nation and be as helpful to as many people as possible. Even though I was enjoying the company of the band, I knew that we’d have to move on from them eventually. Life’s too short to be doing the same thing all the time. Things would need to change. That didn’t necessarily mean that I wouldn’t be sad when it did happen.
I listened to the film based debates and books. I listened to the chat about TV shows and what was and wasn’t good music. I rarely added to the conversation. I like to listen. I love stories as I told you before. A story from a book is one thing, a story was the mouth of another is a different thing entirely. Everyone has their own way of telling a story, whether it be comic or serious, and is usually always worth a listen. Even the tedious stories you hear can be at least bearable if the person telling it can deliver it in the right way. If you talk you only tell others of what you already know, if you listen you learn what others know and expand your mind to new places.
We had lunch at a restaurant in Town. The band was once again generous and pulled their money together to buy me and Lizzie a small pizza to share. I think by this time me and Lizzie were accepted into the group. This meant that they were willing to share a few coins, they’ve earned from playing various gigs, to make sure we didn’t go hungry. They really were proper decent lads, even now I miss their company and wish I could find out where to meet them. One day I might, hopefully.
Anyway, night was drawing in so we headed back to the hotel to fetch the equipment. I was surprised to see, after taking off the cover from the side car, that the bass guitar was still strapped in where I left it. Being how tightly it was wedged in, no one dared try t
o steal it as it would take too long and they would most likely be caught in the act. The lads went through the back of their bashed up van and checked that everything was in order. Thankfully everything was where it should be and so we were ready to go.
I was looking forward to seeing these guys play. I’d come to love their company and sense of humour, so I just hoped that my impressions wouldn’t be soiled by their lack of talent. I’m not saying that I’d only like people if they’re talented. It’s just that, after establishing themselves as a rock band, I really wanted them to be good at what they did. I think I would have liked them all the same if they were bad. Still, I was excited to see how these guys would play and what their chances were at actually making it as musicians. I hope that they do. I haven’t heard from them since then, so I don’t know how they’re doing right now. I just hope that they get a record deal soon, they deserve a break.
After confirming that everyone was ready, the boys got into the van and set off down the road. We followed them with Lizzie driving this time and me sitting behind her. She wanted a go so I thought, why not? I had about the same experiences in riding bikes as she had, so it would have been quite mean to say no. Besides, it was only up the road. She drove us through the Town, all the time following the black van, until we finally reached the Speakeasy Bar.
CHAPTER NINE
We pulled up in front of the building and parked up on the curve. Even though it was only Tuesday night, the bar was heaving full of people who were all dolled up and ready to party. The girls were wearing short dresses that left nothing to the imagination. Men and Women alike were covered in fake tan and orangey make up. Music was bellowing out of the bar doors. There was a lot of drinking, smoking, kissing and vomiting going on. To readers who are not from the United Kingdom, this is what England is like every night, brilliant init?
Lizzie got off the bike first to take a look at the bar. The walls around the front window were painted an olive green. The large round and friendly letters stating the name of the bar was under lit with red LEDs, outlining the letters in a cherry red glow. In the window was a neon light with the image of a cocktail glass in green and the word “cocktail” in red. From the outside it looked surprisingly small. This didn’t matter as the building was trendy, modern and most of all cool.
Lizzie stopped admiring the bar for a moment, to help me get the bass out of the sidecar. As we were undoing the straps, I could see out of the corner of my eye the boys unloading their van as well. Many guitar cases came out of the van as well as padded cases holding parts of Zo’s drum kit. The band’s appearance had almost instantly gained some attention.
“Are you guys playing tonight?” said a girl, “you like, a band or something?”
The girl’s face was bright orange, her hair was over stylized, her body was on show in a shockingly revealing dress, wore some high heels and looked no older then fourteen. Girls in England grow up fast. That sweet innocent girl you once knew is gone before you know it. They’re already wearing make up and wanting to get off with boys. It’s sad; the Teenage years are expanding in size, while the childhood years are shrinking.
I was instantly disgusted when I saw that girl. She was too young to dress like that. She’s too young to wear clothes which are designed to allure men. When she left the house that night, did her parents approve this mode of dress? Was it her parents who suggested her to dress in this way? Where do we draw the line? It’s just such a shame to see the adult world pressed upon the young so soon in life.
“Yah we’re playing tonight” said Stewie, who was looking just about as disgusted as I was, “why?”
“Because I like boys who are in bands” she said in way she must had thought was seductive, “you might get lucky”
As she walked away, I felt like I was going to be sick. The other boys were going a little bit green. Lizzie looked furious. Her fists were clenched, her breath was running through closed teeth and her face was going bright red. I saw danger, so I darted away and stood with the other boys who were still standing by the van.
“What’s up?” asked Nick,
“Lizzie goanna blow!” I told them,
“I know how she feels” said Zo, who was bent over and looking ready to chunder,
“YOU!!” screamed Lizzie, “YOU GIRL!!!”
The girl turned around and stared at Lizzie for a while. She was staring daggers at the young girl. One finger of Lizzie’s was pointed downwards to tell the girl to come back. The girl began to click clack back on her high heels, she was swaying her hips a little bit too much.
“What?” asked the girl, when she arrived a few meters in front of Lizzie,
“What do you think your doing?” asked Lizzie, “how old are you?”
“I’m thirteen” replied the girl,
All of our stomachs turned dramatically. Zo was ever so much closer to throwing up everything he’d eaten. The girl was shocked by our reaction. She even looked a little offended.
“What you moaning about?” asked the girl in an irritated manner, “Don’t you think I’m sexy?”
“You’re too young to be flirting with guys” said Lizzie, “dressing the way you do and being such a….”
“”Such a” what?” asked the girl jerking her head,
“Such a slut!” answered Lizzie,
“I’m not a slut!” exclaimed the girl, “forget you lot. I’m going somewhere else to party. By the way, I was going to blow all of you!”
Zo finally did throw up. The sound of his sick splattering on the ground covered the sound of the girl’s heels trotting away. Lizzie went back to untying the bass from the sidecar, her face still expressed anger. I helped her get the bass out in silence and hand it over to Stewie. We all tried to forget that the event even happened. Zo kept on unloading his drum kit as if he hadn’t thrown up at all. None of us wanted to refer to the odd event again, so I don’t think I’ll write about it anymore either.
Nick came up to us with a smile on his face.
“I’ve got a job for you guys” he said cheerfully, “there might be some wonga in it for you!”
“What is it?” I asked, I’d completely forgotten about asking Nick for a job,
“We need someone to work the lightning and sound desks by the side of the stage” explained Nick, “it’s not a big stage mind, but a little bit of lighting might make a difference. We’ve never had someone to control the sound levels before, it might be a great help. We’ll pay you two a fiver each, out of the money we earn from this gig. Is that alright?”
“Yah!” I said, “That sounds fine”
“Thank you so much!” seconded Lizzie, this good news instantly made her horrid mood from before melt away, “We might be able to pay for our own meals now!”
“Great!” said Nick with a grin, “Well, we’re ready to go inside and set up. You wanna come help us?”
“Sure” we both said in unison.
The lads were already starting to walk inside with their cases. I and Lizzie picked up the remaining parts of Zo’s drum kit. I had the snare and bass drum, Lizzie had the hi-hat and crash symbol. We carried them over the pavement, past the line of people trying to get inside and into the bar. Nick was just behind us. He was locking up the van and checking we took the keys from the bike before carrying two amplifiers in both hands. Happy that Nick was sorted out, I and Lizzie went inside the building.
Inside the bar was buzzing excited people. I saw women wearing pink boas and had learner plates hung around their necks in string, obviously a hen night party. Behind the bar’s long library of bottles and drinks, was a huge illuminated sign which said: “Bar”, in case you didn’t know what a bar looked like. The walls were all designed differently; some had prints across them, some were purple, some red, some orange and some black. It was like the owner couldn’t decide from a collection of swatches what to have, so had he decided to have everything.
The band’s “stage” if you could even call it that, was right at the far end of the ba
r. It was a small section painted black, with a small black curtain and stools for the musicians to sit on. The stage was literally just in a corner. On those two walls hung two large mirrors….I don’t know why either. Just to the right of the stage was a lighting and sound board. It was all extremely cramped and tight. Nevertheless the band members looked decidedly enthusiastic about the gig.
Zo, Stewie, Stan and Ritchie were already there setting up. The drum kit was only half complete so I carried, with Lizzie, the remaining pieces for the band to put together. All the guitars were plugged into the amps. In the bar you could hear Stewie plucking away at his strings, testing to see if they were all tuned up accordingly.
Lizzie, already attending to her sound duties, began playing with the dials on the amplifier to get them all level. Didn’t know what levels from each dial was the right one, but from years of listening to M.P.N.T she knew what the wrong ones were. She adjusted the amp that Stewie was plugged into until the bass sounded crisp and clear. As the other band members plugged in their instruments and tested them, Lizzie readjusted the amps at the same time. Nick had arrived by this point and was sorting out his guitar as well.
I went over to the lightning board and sat on the black stool that was in front of it. All across the board were at least twenty fader switches, which you slide upwards to bring lights up and down. The faders were all numbered. This didn’t help me because I had no idea what number each of the lights was. I look up to see an iron bar bolted across the ceiling, on this bar was only five lanterns with different coloured gels inserted in them. This meant that, out of this collection of twenty faders, only five controlled those lights.
To find out which faders these were I used a sophisticated method, I was going to go through all of them and note which ones work and which ones don’t. I began doing this as the band went kept on setting up. Zo’s drum kit was finally complete and he was practicing some beats on them as a warm up. I went through all of the faders, sliding them up and down, and discovered that the first two, one in the middle and the last two faders were the ones I needed to work with. Just on the side to the left of me was a black marker, I used this to draw a small line on the faders I discovered where the active ones.