Status: new story! excitement!
Never Wanted to Dance With Nobody
The First Part
“Name?”
“Mikey Fuckin’ Way.”
“Hey seriously, I know you’re good, but I gotta have somethin’ to prove it to everybody else who gets to decide if you get this job or not.”
“Alright, alright! But only ‘cause I owe you for getting me that gig in Phoenix last year.”
“Yeah, now, for real this time. Name?”
“Harriet Nichols, go by Harry unless you’re my mom and I’m in some deep shit. I’m here today to get a job as your new sound tech. Or I can haul shit, whatever you need. I could even go back and do merch even. I just kinda need a job. Bad.”
“You got a resume with ya?”
“Uh… not a formal one really. I mean, I can tell you just about everybody I’ve worked with, you probably got half of ‘em in your phone right now. You can call ‘em I guess? Get a recommendation?”
“Yeah, I can do that later. You have any experience with my guys? Harry, it’s a formality, you gotta do this, don’t mess your face up like that at me. You want this job or not? I can call somebody else if I need to.”
“Fine, Jesus! Yeah, I done just about all Detroit shows since you’ve been manager. Never met the guys myself though, just set everything up and went straight to the booth. Oh, and I was on Projekt Revolution with the Placebo crew, too. Still heard some of the fuck-ups your old guy was making almost every freakin' day. Probably coulda run over and fixed it, but that’s not my job, is it?”
“Not yet, and it won’t be if you’re not careful. I’m warning you Harry, you gotta at least act like you need this gig. I’m still gonna try to convince ‘em into hiring you. I’ll call you in a couple days, okay?”
“Don’t try and pull that ‘don’t call us, we’ll call you’ shit with me, Jeff. You still gonna be in town Friday? Yeah? Let’s get us a drink then. Reveal my fate and shit.”
“Yeah, alright. See ya Friday, Harry.”
“Thanks Jeff.”
“Mikey Fuckin’ Way.”
“Hey seriously, I know you’re good, but I gotta have somethin’ to prove it to everybody else who gets to decide if you get this job or not.”
“Alright, alright! But only ‘cause I owe you for getting me that gig in Phoenix last year.”
“Yeah, now, for real this time. Name?”
“Harriet Nichols, go by Harry unless you’re my mom and I’m in some deep shit. I’m here today to get a job as your new sound tech. Or I can haul shit, whatever you need. I could even go back and do merch even. I just kinda need a job. Bad.”
“You got a resume with ya?”
“Uh… not a formal one really. I mean, I can tell you just about everybody I’ve worked with, you probably got half of ‘em in your phone right now. You can call ‘em I guess? Get a recommendation?”
“Yeah, I can do that later. You have any experience with my guys? Harry, it’s a formality, you gotta do this, don’t mess your face up like that at me. You want this job or not? I can call somebody else if I need to.”
“Fine, Jesus! Yeah, I done just about all Detroit shows since you’ve been manager. Never met the guys myself though, just set everything up and went straight to the booth. Oh, and I was on Projekt Revolution with the Placebo crew, too. Still heard some of the fuck-ups your old guy was making almost every freakin' day. Probably coulda run over and fixed it, but that’s not my job, is it?”
“Not yet, and it won’t be if you’re not careful. I’m warning you Harry, you gotta at least act like you need this gig. I’m still gonna try to convince ‘em into hiring you. I’ll call you in a couple days, okay?”
“Don’t try and pull that ‘don’t call us, we’ll call you’ shit with me, Jeff. You still gonna be in town Friday? Yeah? Let’s get us a drink then. Reveal my fate and shit.”
“Yeah, alright. See ya Friday, Harry.”
“Thanks Jeff.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Rawrrawrrawr. That is all.