My co-worker was scheduled to play a lunch-time gig at a local park today. My boss asked, "So, are we going to hear B. play?"
I responded with an enthusiastic, "Ummmmm...I uhhhhhh...well?"
If we didn't live just outside of Hell where it's 1000 degrees in the shade, I might have been a little more excited. But I was not jumping up and down at the idea of spending my lunch hour, my one hour of peace, in the sweltering heat watching two aging hippies trying to relive their musical youth.
Eventually, I relented and agreed to join the gang for pizza in the park. I sat at a picnic table in the blazing sun, tanning against my will, and listened to acoustic renditions of "Mustang Sally" and "Blue Bayou." I so want that hour of my life back.
3 comments:
Sounds like my dad's "band." Without the sweltering sun.
youre a good person. i would have faked illness.
You should ask to be paid double time for that.
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