Going to Pasalacqua

“Goddamn Tré... Lay the fuck off the doughnuts!” I gasp. Shoving him up through the tiny open window. 

He snickered, and then his weight disappears from my shoulders, followed by the loud crash on the other side of the window. I wince and hoist myself up into the frame to see he had landed headfirst into a bunch if empty cardboard boxes. I finish squirming through the tiny gap and when I am on my feet and help Tré up. He groans in pain and I giggle as we begin to adventure the backstage area of the building. I suppose if I'd ever been to a concert and been backstage before, I might have had an idea where to go. Given I never had, I just followed Tré around. Kid seemed to know where he was going so I decided to trust my instinct of him trusting his and followed him down a narrow hall that ended in a plush crimson curtain. Tré peeked out it before yanking it open the rest of the way and gesturing me on. We entered a long hallway. It was all white, the tiles, the wall. We looked at the doors, I read the names under my breath, 'course I knew who they all were, we were just looking for someone a little more specific. 

When I rounded the corner, Tré stood proudly before a door. The paper on it labeled it as ‘Joey Ramone's Dressing Room.’

I score Tré a quiet high five and we looked up at it like we had found Atlantis or something.
When he reached for the handle, I smacked his hand. 

“We can't just barge in there!” I hiss under my breath.

“Why not?” he whispered back innocently.

“Because A. He may not even be in there, and B. What if a security guard or someone is in there and they see we don't have backstage passes?!” I hiss back. Apparently he hadn't thought about either of those scenarios. I had been thinking of nothing but.

“Well we can try can't we?” he asked. I fiercely shook my head no. And before I could stop him, his hand lashed out and he knocked the beat to Shave & a Haircut. I shot him a look and was about to dive behind the wall when he grabbed the collar of my shirt and insisted I help him, play it up. Then he tried to sell me on doing it by saying I'd do good because in such a good actress. I just scoffed.

The door opened a crack and a man in his maybe early thirties opened the door. He had long black greasy hair. Dark eyes and was taller then either Tré or me. He looked at us both suspiciously.

“Can I help you?...”

“Hi!” Tré squealed. And after that I could swear that Joey would want to slam the door in our faces. The typical, obsessive fans who wanted autographs. I wouldn't blame him if he did. 

I moved Tré behind me to save him from further embarrassment and from screwing this opportunity up all together.

“Hi.” I say sweetly.

“Hi...” he says warily. Cautious that we might attack him or something. But I noticed that he was watching Tré more closely. So I had hope if I could keep Tré under control, we might have some kind of success at this mission.

“You are Joey Ramone right?” I ask and he nods.

“Of course he is Adeline *annoyed sigh* everyone knows that, he's a legend. He's like—” I clamped my hand down over his mouth and gave him a look. He shut up but still gave me that look signaling I didn't have the musical knowledge to be talking to a 'legend'

“Pardon him, he's just a little excited.” I say. Pushing him from view behind me again.

Joey nods.

“Anyways—”  “Come on Adeline! You can't talk so bored like to a legend. It's so—” 

“Shut up!” I yell in his face. He opens his mouth to speak again and I clamp my hand down on his mouth again and turn to Joey.

“Got any duck tape?”

Five minutes later:

“HMM MM HMP MURP SHM KIHMP!” Tré screamed into the thick strip of duck tape across his mouth. I'd tied his hands back too so he wasn't tempted. Though the pain from ripping off duck tape might just be enough to get him to keep it on.

“So, your a fan I am assuming?” Joey asks conversationally while sitting a can of pop before me on the coffee table.

I shrug “Don't take this wrong or anything, but I haven't really ever listened to Ramones. I'm here in a favor for a friend who is obsessed.” I say while playfully rolling my eyes.

Joey smiles and nods. Drinking his beer “None taken.” “What kind of favor?” he asked. Leaning forward in his seat and seeming interested enough.

“My friend had a guitar pick autographed by you, and that one over there,” I pointed at Tré “Lost it. So my friend assigned him to come here tonight and get a new one.” I sighed.

“So if he was supposed to do it, why are you doing all the talking?” Joey smirked.

“Because he'll humiliate himself or say something wrong in spite of his excitement and most likely we'd walk away empty handed.” I say blandly.

“IM MU MONT MURURURU MURELF!” Tré shouted against the duck tape. I smiled and waved sweetly at him.

“Sure I can autograph a pick for you.” he shrugged and reached over on a coffee table and grabbed a shiny blue one and scribbled across it quickly in Sharpie.
He handed it to me “So tell me about your friend.” he says, leaning back contently

“His name is Billie Joe.” I say and he nods 

“He plays in a band. Lead guitar and vocals actually.” 

“Have I heard of them?” he smirks.

“Probably not, they are just beginning. But they are called Green Day. They used to go by Sweet Children.”

He nods “Cool. Though no I haven't heard of them.”

“They are releasing their first EP sometime next month.” I say and he nods.

“In fact, that psycho kid over there, that's Tré. Their drummer.”

Tré cut me a glare. He could be a little more graceful about me having introduced him to his idol.

“I used to play drums for my band but was forced to move up to vocals.” Joey sighed before giving Tré a thumbs up for his instrument of choice.

Someone stuck their head in the dressing room door.

“You almost ready mate?” the man asked. He looked almost as old and Joey. Maybe even wiser in some way. He waved at me, gave Tré an odd look and smiled at Joey. An encouraging look to kick it in the ass. Joey nodded and hopped up fro the couch and grabbing his guitar. Pulling the strap over his head and waving at us and walking out the door. Five seconds later, he poked his head back in “How would you guys like to attend a Ramones concert?” he asked.

“MMMMM! MMMM!” Tré threw his head back, moved his lips against the duck-tape and some how had managed to get it loose. He bit down on the strip between his teeth and sawed it in half like a piranha. “I DO!” he yelled. Bouncing up and down in his seat. In that moment, I think I and Joey were equally surprised. He shook his head and gestured for us to follow him on.

Tré quizzed him on every subject that had anything to do with drumming in the walk through the backstage hallways until we stood off the stage. Joey answered like he was a regular guy and not some rock star everyone was wanting to see on stage tonight. Tré explained to him his drumming styles, described to him in great detail what drum set he had. Joey nodded every so often until he had to break away to go do some quick warm ups with his band. We waved them off the went searching for a pay phone to tell Billie we had gotten it and hadn't gone to jail for it. In fact Joey either hadn't noticed we had no backstage passes or obviously didn't care.

“Y'ello?” I smiled at the familiarity of his voice, even over the phone.

“Yo Bill. We got it.” I informed him.

“Seriously? That's fucking fantastic, so when should you be home?” he obviously couldn't wait to get his mitts all over the little piece of 25¢ plastic with a thousand dollar ink scribbling across it.

“Uh I don't really know...”

“What did you do?” he demanded, exasperated.

“Nothing, nothing. We just ran into Joey Ramone and—”

“Adeline, let's go!” Tré called from down the hall. I began to wonder if it wouldn't be better to not tell him so be isn't jealous.

“He just wanted to talk about you and your band a little bit.” I shrugged even though he couldn't see me. It was a partial truth. You see, he did talk about Green Day... Just very very briefly. Even though it wasn't a full fledge lie, I still felt guilty for doing it.

“Oh ok! You go do that, I'll see you when you get back. Love you and make sure to keep Tré out of trouble!”

“I will.” I smiled “Love you too.”

“I know.” he said smugly “See you soon.”

And he hung up. I held the phone idle to my ear for a second. Wishing he was still on the line, because even though I'd see him in a few hours, I'd still miss the sound of his voice. His laugh and his nervous laugh he makes when he wants something. I smiled a little while longer when Tré wailed down the hall again for me and I hung the phone up on the hook and jogged down the remainder of the hall and took my seat up right in front of the stage next to Tré who just stared up in awe at one of his favorite bands. Sure we'd each have a nice memory of tonight, but there is a problem with all of this. I'll have a guilty conscious and who knows how long I can shut Tré up for before he blows up and tells everyone about his Ramones concert experience.

Billie had made it very clear to be in. And to be out. Just like that and we'd be done. If only Tré hadn't perked up to Joey's offer. But I'd be lying if there wasn't a tiny part of me not excited for this.

It was a very different experience the. The few concerts I'd been to in the past nine months. The grungy feel of the Gilman shows were still my natural habitat, but I liked the feeling of submerging yourself into the atmosphere. To be included in everything that band did. It has this weird energy to it. But I love it anyways. Even the many Green Dat shows I'd been to in those nine short months, they had played in multiple bars and parties, no longer supporting birthday parties for kids under the age of fourteen. Even so, a small show compared to a stadium show had a vast difference between the two.

I actually may have fallen in love with the bands style of playing music. Their lyrics were easy so by the second chorus, you were singing along. I grinned uncontrollably as they continued to play, pulled Tré up in stage to sing a song with them before he stage dived and ended up back in his seat next to me.

I was exhausted as they played their last song and ran off stage, meeting us back stage to say our goodbyes, it was eleven at night.

Joey introduced us to his band mates, and then asked mine and Tré's  number so he could talk with Tré more about his drumming whenever he wasn't in the area. And talk to me more about the promotion of Green Day, which I had gotten his slight interest in letting them be a opening band for Ramones some time. I kept my fingers crossed for Billie. This would be the big break they'd need.

We said goodbye a final time before walking out to the truck in the massive waves of fleeing fans, the ones that had long since stopped trying to get the bands autograph because they are so out of reach. I got in the truck beside Tré, fighting sleep all the way home in case he passes out and we go into a  ditch, I can at least take the wheel.

It took us about an hour of careful driving to return home wit the new autographed guitar pick in hand.