This is a wonderful business, and yet cruel in its own right. You can spend years developing the contacts, the forward motion and the visual license to appeal, yet you never experience a rapport. You are everybody’s friend, and yet the friend of nobody in this business. Thankfully, I’ve adapted to suit the needs of the role quite happily.
Still, people in general are marvellously comical. That’s right, this is a gig drama story. Even better, this is a teenage gig drama story. Sound tasty? In many ways, indeed it is.
Today, I was reviewing a young, female interviewee. She has the cutesy thing going on, a voice to suit her style and chooses songs that are romantic, but subtle enough sexually to evade notice. Everything fits, nothing stand out. She quite obviously only started singing to satisfy her mother, who doesn’t seem to have noticed, but that’s another story. We’ll call this girl ‘singer’.
She has a female friend here that she has written songs for and about, which nicely labels said friend as the nervous type. We’ll call her ‘girlfriend’. She’s also a vegetarian, which adds to the overall arc. Here, at current, all is well.
However, then the male appendage of singer arrives, which is typically the turning point of a story. You know how these things go. It’s neither cruel nor unusual. In fact, in the teenage years, it’s downright common. We’ll call him, as you may have guessed already, ‘boyfriend’.
So, singer is dating boyfriend. Girlfriend, who is nervous and shy, has that particular glare that says ‘Get off my man, you bitch!’ You know the one. They never think that anybody notices, when everybody quite obviously does so. So, they go outside to ‘talk’. Again, you know the sort.
Singer, while singing, casts her eyes around for boyfriend and, when she can’t find him, gets pissed off and moves off of the stage to go and look for them. You know teens, they’re scared of things. Turns out she was right to though; there was blowjob action going on in the beer garden.
After that, it all kicked off and went a little crazy. Fun, you know. Drinks were thrown, food was thrown, hair was pulled and then thrown.
I miss the relaxed days when I went to these things for fun rather than for work. If that was the case though, I would miss the cash element and, more importantly, the feeling of importance.