Rock and Roll Ruined My Life
Meeting the Music Man
Rock and Roll Ruined My Life- Chapter 2- Meeting the Music Man
I guess it was around block 10 I saw someone trip and spill all of their stuff out onto the side walk. I was still far off so I couldn’t really see. As I squinted to see what was happening, I realized that no one was stopping to help them. 'WTF?!?!' I thought. I hate it when people just ignore others who need help. I don’t know why but it just gets to me. I picked up my pace to get a better grasp on the situation. How could all of those people just walk by and not care? When I was about 15 feet away I stopped. It was a man who had tripped. I knew all of the possible treacherous things that could happen to my personal well being if I did stop to help, but I would feel awful just walking by.
I looked around at all the people on the street. Surely someone would help ME if he tried to do anything funny. I took a deep breath and rushed forward to gather all of the things that had fallen without saying anything or looking at the guy. I figured it was best that way… Once I had everything, I grabbed one of the half empty bags that was lying on the ground and filled it up to the top with all of the stuff. I still did not look at the man as I stood up to make sure nothing fell out again. As I patted everything down, I noticed that something had cracked open. I took it out of the bag. It was one of those portable electric guitar tuners. I looked into the bag again. I saw guitar picks, a set of drum sticks, batteries, and some spare wires.
I finally raised my eyes to the man who was watching me hold all of his stuff. I guess my face must have contorted into one of sheer confusion when I met the guy’s stare becuase he started to laugh. “Here you go,” I said timidly handing him the bag. Who was this guy? His dark straight hair was cut short and was relatively shiny, but it was probably because of the reflection of the sun coming off of the store front windows. He had dark shadows under his eyes which stood out vividly. I was pretty sure they were hazel… I guess I hadn’t expected him to look the way he did. I was expecting some business man, not a music man.
I looked at his clothes. He was wearing black skinny jeans, with a simple white t-shirt and sneakers. He was still chuckling as if waiting for me to realize something. I followed his glance to my hands which still held the broken guitar tuner.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, “I’m sorry I forgot I had this! I know how to fix it.” I saw his eyebrows rise in surprise. I nodded reassuringly at him then took out the back cover and the battery, then moved over a couple of small wires to see if the tiny button I was looking for was there: the reset button. Despite it looking totally trashed, if you reset the tuning part of the tuner it should work… At least that’s what my dad said. I put all of the stuff back in place and snapped the back cover on. I glanced at the cracked plastic covering the front then handed it to the guy.
“There’s nothing I can do about the front,” I explained, “but it should tune your guitar just fine. It’s a good brand so don’t worry.” He nodded approvingly and said,
“You really know your stuff. How did you know how to do that?” Before I could stop and think about who I was talking to, the answer came out of my mouth automatically,
“My dad’s a music teacher.” He nodded again seeming impressed. I started to smile but stopped myself as realization hit. 'Why was I telling this guy my life story?!'
“I have to go.” I started to back away but then the man lost his grip on one of the bags again. I caught it before it spilled.
“Erm, could you help me bring this to my er, car?” He asked. I raised my eyebrows and held out the bag to him again. He sighed impatiently. “Please trust me. I’m not going to rape you or anything.” He shook his head vigorously as if trying to clear away the bad mental image he suddenly saw. I still held out the bag to him. “Look, I’m married!” He held out his hand and I saw a plain band on his ring finger. I gave in, “Um, ok.” He nodded his head and started off down the street. I followed reluctantly.
“My name is Gerard by the way,” the man said walking straight ahead. I noticed he was smiling to himself as if what he just said was an inside joke.
“Nice to meet you,” I replied. “Do you-” I stopped myself. I was not going to get involved in anyone’s business, especially strangers’ business.
“Do I what?” He inquired. My curiosity could not take it any longer even though I felt I already knew the answer.
“I’m sorry I’m so nosy, but are you in a band or something? I only see this type of equipment when I see bands getting ready to bring their stuff on stage outside of clubs and stuff.” He turned to look at me and smiled,
“Yeah, I’m in a band.”
“That’s awesome!” I exclaimed. “I’ve never met anyone from a real band before! I’ve never even been to a concert! I -” Gerard stopped short and turned to face me suddenly very serious. “You, the music teacher's daughter, have never been to a concert?” I shook my head.
“Then it’s a good thing you bumped into me. Come on.”
This time he walked with a purpose. I sped up to match his pace. Finally, after what seemed like 20 miles, we came to a stop in front of a giant bus. “Where’s your car?” I looked around only to see no other vehicles on the block. “This whole street is empty except for this bus. Are you sure we’re not lost?” I listened to my voice echo off of the empty block. I started to get nervous. “I’m so retarded,” I muttered to myself. Only I would follow a stranger and think it was ok…
I looked to Gerard for an explanation. He smiled apologetically. “Well, er, see that is my, um, ‘car’ I guess if you want to call it that.” I looked over at the big looming bus, then at Gerard, and then back to the bus again. Realization hit me. His band must be on tour or something. Gerard was staring at me apprehensively, waiting for my response.
“This is awesome!” I finally laughed. He breathed out a sigh of relief and started to walk towards the bus door.
“Come on I want you to meet the guys.”
I guess it was around block 10 I saw someone trip and spill all of their stuff out onto the side walk. I was still far off so I couldn’t really see. As I squinted to see what was happening, I realized that no one was stopping to help them. 'WTF?!?!' I thought. I hate it when people just ignore others who need help. I don’t know why but it just gets to me. I picked up my pace to get a better grasp on the situation. How could all of those people just walk by and not care? When I was about 15 feet away I stopped. It was a man who had tripped. I knew all of the possible treacherous things that could happen to my personal well being if I did stop to help, but I would feel awful just walking by.
I looked around at all the people on the street. Surely someone would help ME if he tried to do anything funny. I took a deep breath and rushed forward to gather all of the things that had fallen without saying anything or looking at the guy. I figured it was best that way… Once I had everything, I grabbed one of the half empty bags that was lying on the ground and filled it up to the top with all of the stuff. I still did not look at the man as I stood up to make sure nothing fell out again. As I patted everything down, I noticed that something had cracked open. I took it out of the bag. It was one of those portable electric guitar tuners. I looked into the bag again. I saw guitar picks, a set of drum sticks, batteries, and some spare wires.
I finally raised my eyes to the man who was watching me hold all of his stuff. I guess my face must have contorted into one of sheer confusion when I met the guy’s stare becuase he started to laugh. “Here you go,” I said timidly handing him the bag. Who was this guy? His dark straight hair was cut short and was relatively shiny, but it was probably because of the reflection of the sun coming off of the store front windows. He had dark shadows under his eyes which stood out vividly. I was pretty sure they were hazel… I guess I hadn’t expected him to look the way he did. I was expecting some business man, not a music man.
I looked at his clothes. He was wearing black skinny jeans, with a simple white t-shirt and sneakers. He was still chuckling as if waiting for me to realize something. I followed his glance to my hands which still held the broken guitar tuner.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, “I’m sorry I forgot I had this! I know how to fix it.” I saw his eyebrows rise in surprise. I nodded reassuringly at him then took out the back cover and the battery, then moved over a couple of small wires to see if the tiny button I was looking for was there: the reset button. Despite it looking totally trashed, if you reset the tuning part of the tuner it should work… At least that’s what my dad said. I put all of the stuff back in place and snapped the back cover on. I glanced at the cracked plastic covering the front then handed it to the guy.
“There’s nothing I can do about the front,” I explained, “but it should tune your guitar just fine. It’s a good brand so don’t worry.” He nodded approvingly and said,
“You really know your stuff. How did you know how to do that?” Before I could stop and think about who I was talking to, the answer came out of my mouth automatically,
“My dad’s a music teacher.” He nodded again seeming impressed. I started to smile but stopped myself as realization hit. 'Why was I telling this guy my life story?!'
“I have to go.” I started to back away but then the man lost his grip on one of the bags again. I caught it before it spilled.
“Erm, could you help me bring this to my er, car?” He asked. I raised my eyebrows and held out the bag to him again. He sighed impatiently. “Please trust me. I’m not going to rape you or anything.” He shook his head vigorously as if trying to clear away the bad mental image he suddenly saw. I still held out the bag to him. “Look, I’m married!” He held out his hand and I saw a plain band on his ring finger. I gave in, “Um, ok.” He nodded his head and started off down the street. I followed reluctantly.
“My name is Gerard by the way,” the man said walking straight ahead. I noticed he was smiling to himself as if what he just said was an inside joke.
“Nice to meet you,” I replied. “Do you-” I stopped myself. I was not going to get involved in anyone’s business, especially strangers’ business.
“Do I what?” He inquired. My curiosity could not take it any longer even though I felt I already knew the answer.
“I’m sorry I’m so nosy, but are you in a band or something? I only see this type of equipment when I see bands getting ready to bring their stuff on stage outside of clubs and stuff.” He turned to look at me and smiled,
“Yeah, I’m in a band.”
“That’s awesome!” I exclaimed. “I’ve never met anyone from a real band before! I’ve never even been to a concert! I -” Gerard stopped short and turned to face me suddenly very serious. “You, the music teacher's daughter, have never been to a concert?” I shook my head.
“Then it’s a good thing you bumped into me. Come on.”
This time he walked with a purpose. I sped up to match his pace. Finally, after what seemed like 20 miles, we came to a stop in front of a giant bus. “Where’s your car?” I looked around only to see no other vehicles on the block. “This whole street is empty except for this bus. Are you sure we’re not lost?” I listened to my voice echo off of the empty block. I started to get nervous. “I’m so retarded,” I muttered to myself. Only I would follow a stranger and think it was ok…
I looked to Gerard for an explanation. He smiled apologetically. “Well, er, see that is my, um, ‘car’ I guess if you want to call it that.” I looked over at the big looming bus, then at Gerard, and then back to the bus again. Realization hit me. His band must be on tour or something. Gerard was staring at me apprehensively, waiting for my response.
“This is awesome!” I finally laughed. He breathed out a sigh of relief and started to walk towards the bus door.
“Come on I want you to meet the guys.”
.
2/7/15