The Company Band

We’re a classic rock cover band.  Bon Jovi.  The Who.  Tom Petty.  etc.  I play on most of the songs.  The big gig was the company holiday party.  We played at the Showbox at the market.  I headlined the Showbox at the market.  Suck on that, Fleet Foxes.

We found a tiny pipe in the green room.  Everyone kept referring to it as a crack pipe.  I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a crack pipe.

It was an 80s-themed party.  We played in front of a big screen showing the movie Dirty Dancing.

I wore a pin-striped suit, a top hat, and a feather boa.

My nickname is “Dr. Charles Schaefer, inventor of the Kitchen Couch.”

After the show, a blacked out Genevieve came into the green room.  “Molly, you were so good! I mean soooooo goood.”

“Thanks! Charles was amazing too, wasn’t he?”

“no no no no no, you were like the best singer I’ve EVER HEARD.”

I went to get the car.  I shouldn’t have been driving.  I pulled into the parking lot and came back inside to get my keyboard.  Sarah Beaucheman stopped me.

“Charles, you were so great! This is my friend [relativelyattractivegirlsname]”

“You were so good!”

“Uh, thanks! it was really fun.”

“And your girlfriend, oh my god, did you see his girlfriend?”

“She’s soooo hot.”

“I know, right?”

 

That is all.

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