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Looking for a drummer who likes to get sweaty. Metal band, very clean and welcoming though. Just don’t be a dick.
“Nobody’s going to answer to such a shitty ad! Be professional for once, please!”
“That’s rich coming from you. Who was it that got our former drummer fired?”
“He was a homophobic piece of shit.”
“Baz, we’re a metal band. Of course there’s going to be some pieces of shit along the way.”
“Not on my watch. Did you know that queers listen to metal and punk too? Not everybody’s got to be some fucking Johnny Rotten.”
“Since when are you so passionate about gay rights?”
“Since I’m a fucking human being, Dev! And don’t act as if it didn’t bother you either. I see the way you look at Niall, you know?”
“Oi! I’m here, you know.”
“Whatever! The ad is perfect! Fiona would agree.”
“Where is she?”
“On a trip in the countryside. God knows why.”
“Niall, what do you think?”
“The ad is fine. Chaotic and a bit pornographic, but that’s us.”
“Damn, I hate both of you.”
“No, you love us with all of your little gay heart”
“Shut up, will you?!”
Simon:
The last few days, weeks, months have been … Whatever. I’m no good with words and thoughts, and I won’t become Virginia Woolf today. But let’s say that thank God I have Penny. She makes sure I eat at least two meals a day, shower once a day, and practice a bit of drums in the studio once a week. I’m a bit rusty but I really come alive every time I have sticks in my hands. The difficult part is finding the courage to go into the kitchen, shower, studio … And I’m lacking courage at the moment. Since my last band broke up after Aggie decided to go off solo, I don’t know where I’m going. Got nothing to care for, no reasons to wake up in the morning. I’m heartbroken and bandless.
The drums help to channel my anger, and my emotions more globally. I used to be on fire every time I was in the studio or playing live. Something deep inside me finds it satisfying to bang to drums, instead of starting fights like I used to.
I’m really lucky to have Ebb and Penny in my life. Ebb is the one who signed me up for drum lessons at a local charity program that teaches music to kids. And Penny was a schoolmate, who became my best friend and roommate.
I should visit Ebb more often. She’s retired, in the countryside now. Penny says I should go visit her for a few days. Maybe I’ll do that. But I’ve got a call to make first. Even though I’m tired, I can call her without moving from the sofa. I turn off the telly and grab my phone. The tone rings twice before she picks up
“Hello?”
“Hi Ebb, it’s Simon.”
“Oh Simon, darling, how are … you?”
“Is everything ok?”
“Yeah, just got a friend over. But I’m glad you called.”
“Are you sure I’m not disturbing you?”
“Not at all! She’s here for the weekend; we will have plenty of time. Funny thing, we were talking about her nephew. He has a band and they are looking for a drummer.”
“Ah.”
“Would you like to join? I think it will do you good after .. well, you know.”
Seems like neither of us are good with words.
“Yeah.”
What else can I say? I know nothing about the band, and it’s not like I’m in my best shape to join a band right now.
“They’re called the Erotically Deranged. You can search for them on Facebook. Should I tell Fiona you’re interested?”
I don’t know what to say. I’m deranged but not in an erotic way. And by the way, what on earth is that name? Are they just a band of strippers? There’s no way I’d go on stage naked!
“Simon?”
“Yeah, sorry. I … don’t know what to say.”
“You could look them up and message me!”
“Yeah, I’ll do that. Talk to you soon.”
“Love you, Simon.”
What the fuck just happened? Who even are these people? I open Facebook and search for them. A handful of pictures, some videos, and an ad.
Looking for a drummer who likes to get sweaty. Metal band, very clean and welcoming though. Just don’t be a dick.
Who even are these people?! Who puts up an ad like that? Are they insane? I look at their profile picture. Oh no, they’re just hot. Makes sense. Hot people are like that. Aggie was like that. Not like them, but insane in a good way. They seem to have an entirely black wardrobe, lots of leather (I’m never wearing leather, I run hot), and some charisma.
The singer and the guitarist have dark skin and black hair. The bassist is more like me. And the former drummer is a random bloke; I don’t care about him. I listen to a few of their songs. It’s incredible. It’s energetic and the singer knows how to growl and scream. I like his lyrics. Some are about politics, some about love… They seem to be nice, I guess? At least they’re leftists, thank God. It’s not that I don’t trust Ebb, but she can trust people too easily sometimes. If (Oh my God, what am I saying) I was to join this band, HYPOTETICALLY, I could maybe pay rent and meet some new people that aren’t Penny or Ebb. Aggie doesn’t want to talk right now. I don’t know if she’ll ever talk to me again. Not that I’ve done something bad. I think it was more just her need to get out of her parent’s shadows—it must’ve been hard, having her parents be our managers. Though it would be nice to have parents to step out of the shadows from.
Maybe that’s why I’m deranged. Just like them. Maybe I should join them. My therapist says I should find something to do with my day—maintainsome kind of routine. Even though everyone knows that artists don’t have any sleep schedule or whatever is healthy for human beings. It’s worth a try.
First draft: “Hey guys, I’m a drummer looking for a band, would you be down to meet to talk about it?”
No. Second draft: “Hey guys, I found your ad and …”
No. Third draft: “Hey guys, you seem really cool and I wondered if…”
Message sent: “Hey guys, I’m a drummer looking for a band, would you be down to meet to talk about it?”
Fuck. What have I done?