|
|
Thomas woke up in the early evening. He decided he'd better start on his New York City "discoveries". Feeling he had to dress somewhat appropriately for this, he pulled on his black T-shirt, his pair of distressed blue jeans, and his brown corduroy jacket. He stepped in front of the cracked mirror in the bathroom and looked himself over. He gave his longish black hair a final brush with his fingers and left, making sure to lock the door. It was 8:45 on a Friday night and people were already walking along the sidewalk and driving by on their way to the clubs. All the activity delighted Thomas, who was very oblivious to the raised eyebrows he was receiving from most of the single females who passed him. He got on the subway and travelled for half an hour. Eventually, Thomas ended up in chic SoHo. While sauntering down one of the busy streets with his hands shoved in his front pockets, he caught sight of a sign that read 'Yola Bar - Open Mic Nights every Friday at 9'. "Oh, that's lucky!" Thomas exclaimed under his breath. He realized he was a bit late, but it didn't make any difference really. Inside was a rather high-ceilinged room with a white candle at each café-sized table. Running along one wall was a long cushioned bench fitted with deep red fabric. The stage was small and raised to thigh-level from the ground, it had small white Christmas lights hanging in an arch. The girl onstage at the moment was very fascinating to Thomas. She had especially long auburn hair in one thick braid and she wore a light blue dress with skin-toned stocking and Mary Jane shoes. She was singing and playing an alternative folk rock song and her voice reminded Thomas of Fiona Apple. Thomas walked up to the front, staring at her, being careful not to knock into anyone. He sat down on the red bench and leaned back. Many people in the audience were socializing or drinking or zoning out. Only one looked rapt with attention. The girl sighted Thomas gazing at her in the corner. She looked at him with a slight smirk on her face while she sang. A half-hour later, her set was done. She said "Thank you" to the applause of perhaps a quarter of the room. She stepped off the stage, and to Thomas' horror, came towards him. "Hi." She said with her hand outstretched to shake. Thomas looked at her like a deer caught in headlights for a few seconds and finally was able to utter, "Hello." She laughed, gave up on the handshake, and sat down next to him, placing her guitar beside her on the bench. "My name is Angela." The girl said with a smile on her face. Thomas stared at her red lipstick covered lips for a moment. "I'm Thomas." He replied. "Are you from around here?" Angela asked. "Oh no, no." Thomas said, "I'm from this small stupid town in Michigan. Actually, I just got here today." "Really!" she said. "Welcome to New York, then. You know what? I think that I'll have to show you around." Thomas bit his lower lip. "I'm not some crazy New Yorker, I won't do anything to you." Angela joked. Thomas almost rolled his eyes, Angela being dangerous had been the last thing he was worried about. "That would be nice. Thank you for offering." he said while looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Angela grinned, surprised that such a good-looking guy was so shy. "Where are you staying?" she asked, "How about we meet up tomorrow afternoon, are you free?" "Um, I'm free everyday, so that's great. I'm at the Motel Manhattan." Angela laughed and told him they should meet at the coffee shop that was across from the Yola Bar the next day at 3 o'clock. "I have to get going now. Sorry, Thomas. But I am really happy we met. You'll have to tell me all about yourself tomorrow." She winked and stood up. "Goodnight." Thomas said. He sat alone for a while after Angela had left. He got up to leave and realized that he hadn't even bought anything from the bar and no waiter had come to serve him. While going out the door, he paused for a minute to look at a tack board with a bunch of bills posted all over it in a big glob of paper. He searched the numerous ads looking for musicians, scanning for the word 'bass'. One bright orange paper caught his eye. It announced that a band he had heard of was looking for a bassist who had a professional playing ability, "NO amateurs!", it stated. The audition was tomorrow, January 12th, at one in the afternoon. Thomas ripped the paper off the wall and jammed it into his jacket pocket.
The next morning, Thomas was up early. He went to the diner down the street from the motel and ate bacon and eggs for breakfast. When he got back to his room, it was noon. The audition location was in Greenwich Village. Thomas tuned, cleaned, and checked over his bass, then put it carefully in the case. He didn't want anything to go wrong during the audition. On his way out, Thomas asked the man behind the counter how to get to Greenwich Village and the man gave him what seemed to be good directions. Thomas got on the subway and stood with his bass on his back. He got off at the station the man had told him to. When he got outside, he looked around with squinted eyes. This didn't look like the right place. Everything was really rundown and there was a car with a flat tire and no windshield parked a few feet away. The anxious Irish boy walked a few blocks looking for Fernwood Street. All the street names were alphabet letters, though. Thomas began breathing heavily as he went down Avenue C. This wasn't the right place. "That idiotic man was wrong." Thomas whispered to himself. Just then, a little old lady passed by him. He stopped and turned towards her. "Miss. Miss, I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm really lost right now." The old woman looked up at him. "Where are you trying to get to?" she asked kindly with a Puerto Rican accent. "Fernwood Street in Greenwich Village." Thomas said hopefully. "Oh my, you certainly have gone out of your way, minio." She then proceeded to tell him that he must get back on the subway and go back the way he had come. The rest of the way didn't sound too complicated, though he'd have to find Fernwood on his own because it was a small street and the old woman had never heard of it. After thanking the lady, Thomas turned down a wide alley that appeared to be a shortcut to the subway. Suddenly, he felt a firm hand clamp down on his right shoulder. He spun around to see a muscular man in a black windbreaker. The man had a stern look on his face, but more terrifying for Thomas was that he was holding a gun. "Gimme' that guitar." the man said, raising his chin and motioning with the gun. Thomas blinked quickly and turned his head to the left. "Now!" the thief shouted. Thomas flinched and swiftly took his bass from his back. He held it out to the thief who yanked it away and sprinted from of the alley. Thomas was a statue, time disappeared. Eventually, tears came to his eyes and flowed down his cheeks. He began walking towards the subway, feeling the loss of his instrument in the lightness of having no weight on his back anymore.
|
Tags
You must be logged in to add tags.
|
Writer Profile
Karis
This user has not written anything in his panorama profile yet.
|
Comments
Beaituful ( Applause) Ogemdi Ike | Jun 11th, 2002
Hey, Karis, This just isnt fair. Lets hear the end of the story...!
hahahaha Karis | Jun 11th, 2002
you people!
*shakes head*
you make it up...otherwise I'll have to write a whole NOVEL!
I agree with qnp Jennifer Hall | Jul 10th, 2002
You are a good writer! I really, really, want to hear the end!! Write the novel, Karis!
You must be a TakingITGlobal member to post a comment. Sign up for free or login.
|
|
