Boring Girls(53)

“Apparently some record labels have been talking to them,” I said.

“Oh, bullshit. It’s all bullshit. They’re just full of themselves,” Socks replied. “Their bass player was telling me that a few hundred people are coming tonight. I don’t see how, but I hope he’s right. That’d be amazing.”

“I wonder what they mean by insane,” Edgar worried. “We’re going to look boring.”

We loaded in our gear after them, carrying in the drum cases, guitars, and amps. The guys from the other band stood by and watched us, which I found extremely irritating. Every time I would come back out for another load of stuff I could feel their eyes on me, particularly the girls’, sizing up me and Fern. I wanted to scream at them that we were not there to pick up guys. We were in a band and we just wanted to play music and have fun.

The Toe was disgusting. It stank like years of old spilled beer, and it didn’t make matters any better that right beside the back door was a giant, reeking dumpster. I had to stop myself from gagging a few times as I made my trips past that thing. The stage in the bar was really small and only a few feet off the ground, and there were a few places on it that were apparently unstable and had been marked off with tape so that we would know to be careful if we stepped there. The owner was a tired old guy who Sharpied an X on our hands so that we couldn’t drink, which was fine by me. Socks was the only one of us who was of age, and I noticed that the Heathenistic Bile guys were X’d as well.

There was still about two hours until the doors opened, and apparently Heathenistic Bile was using that time to soundcheck. Our gear would sit at the side of the stage until they were finished. So the four of us decided to go eat and come back to the bar later on.

The street in front of the Toe was deserted, not exactly lending credence to Paul’s claim of hundreds coming to the show. The area itself was pretty dirty and rundown, and we found a really sketchy restaurant up the street.

“So there’s a guy there named Mitchell, he’s the Toe’s sound guy,” Socks reported once we’d ordered our cheap food from the stained menu. “He’s going to mix our sound tonight. He’s also doing Heathenistic Bile’s sound.”

“But how can he do our sound if he’s never heard our music?” I asked.

“He’ll just wing it. I’m sure he’s been doing sound there for years, done tons of bands. He seems like a grumpy guy. Tonight is going to suck,” Socks warned us. “Make no mistake.”

“I’m still worried about what kind of show they put on,” Edgar said.

“We saw them load in their gear,” Fern reminded him. “I didn’t see any crazy props or anything, just instruments. I guess they probably just get really into it.”

“I guess,” Edgar said.

“Well, we’ll get into it too,” I said stubbornly. “We’ll upstage them.” I spoke more confidently than I felt. I’d never gotten into it before, but I was hoping that once I was onstage in front of a crowd, something would just sort of kick in instinctively.

“Besides, we have two chicks in our band. That sets us apart from them already. They’re just a bunch of boring kids with big egos. What they’re doing has all been said and done before,” said Socks. “We already have an edge, just going in.”

He was trying to motivate us, but it didn’t do anything to lessen the feeling of dread at the table. My stomach was starting to feel queasy, and we ate the greasy food in near silence. It was a far cry from how great we’d all been feeling when we left earlier that afternoon.





TWENTY-ONE


The doors were set to open at 7, and our band to take the stage at 8, so we went back to the bar shortly after 7. We showed the guy at the door our wristbands and walked into a dark, pretty much empty room. I was shocked to see less than twenty people sitting at a few of the tables around the room. Loud music played on the overhead speakers, but the room was dead.

We stared at the emptiness in disappointment, and then Socks turned to rally us. “Okay. Let’s go get dressed and then get our gear set up. We have less than an hour, right? So let’s get ready to rock.” I appreciated his effort, but all it was doing was depressing me even more. “I’m ready to go, so I’m going to find Mitchell and then I’ll meet you guys at the side of the stage in a little while.” He smiled and gave us all an inspiring thumbs-up, and then walked off towards the bar.