Even if it sounds bizarre, before they begun to jam I was conscious of everything around. That is why I decided to tell it in the present tense. After that, all is blurry. I’m turning to the past tense then.
Just in short: they jammed for about an hour. They didn’t even talk to each other. Just a few words that were necessary and enough. Let’s go, you go faster, I lost it, that was good guys. When they were done, my friend and I went outside to smoke a fig. He asked me if I had had fun. And I said I did.
We went for something to eat. They talked about stuff. I nodded. The bill was on me. We went to some place I didn’t know and we got some beers. They kept on talking about stuff. Me, nodding. The girl and the young guy were the first to go. Apparently, they were a couple. They both said goodbye to me. We went to some other place to get more beers. Everybody seemed to know the old black guitarist in that place. They kept on talking about stuff. Around one o’clock am, the bartender begun to sweep. We did not move. The bartender came back and he placed some more beers on the table. He sat with us. He changed the conversation.
- Who’s this guy then?
I smiled.
- A friend of mine.
Said my friend without even looking at me or at the bartender.
- You’re from France?
- No.
This was the first time that the old black guitarist seemed to be aware of me.
- No, he’s Spanish.
I nodded. They kept on talking about stuff. Some time before dawn we all finished our last beer and we went home. They all walked me to my car. Me and my friend we were walking together. The bartender and Jimmy the black guitarist were chatting some steps behind us. Before we got to the car, I broke the silence:
- Thanks for letting me see you guys playing tonight. It’s been great.
- I know.
- Are you a band or something?
- No, we are a gang. This is just an excuse. Every couple months we rob a bank or break into a house.
- I see.
- We only play gigs like a couple times every few months. We’ve never recorded a song. We don’t even have a name. So, I guess that we are a gang rather than a band.
- I see.
- These two guys that you met, Key and Cheesy, they both play in a couple bands. They play a duet as well. If you like music, I’m sure you’ve bought some of their albums even if you didn’t know they were there. Jimmy is just a long story to make you a summary now. And I have played the drums for a long time. When I was a kid I used to play with these guys who are now getting some good money in Europe, but I quitted it very early. Then I played jazz with some friends. Then I did my good job with all short of crap: heroin, alcohol, and all kind of stuff breaking the law. It was fun but tiring, if you get the irony. Like a year ago I went to this place to try to quit it. I met Jimmy there and he told me about these guys. Is that what you wanted to hear?
- I guess so.
- You don’t come now telling me that we are fucking good and that we should do something with this stuff. We all know that.
- And?
- We don’t give a crap about that.
- I see.
- It’s not that we are afraid of anything. It’s just that we don’t care about that. We are all happy now and here. That’s all, you buy it?
- You bet. I’m not here to understand it, it’s just your damned lives, and I’m not the one to start judging any of you.
- Good.
- But you’re pretty good.
- I know.
My car was there. We stopped. The bartender had disappeared and we didn’t even realize that Jimmy was close to us and he had been listening to us. I blushed and turned my head away. Just a second of release. When I looked back at him he was smiling. So I dared:
- How did you know that I was Spanish?
- Because I used to be as well.
I didn’t even ask. We said good night. I went into my car and I saw them walking away down the street. Next day, I could barely recall anything. It was all a matter of shiny pictures that kept coming whimsically to my head. And I seemed to enjoy it that way. But the music kept rolling on my head.
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