“Don’t go, Don’t go, Don’t go.”, I sang into the microphone. Words with so little meaning, yet they come together one car crash of a meaning in this song. The audience pummeled each other and shouted back the words in a less poetic fashion. It’s fun to watch.
The song was over and the audience cheered. Six months since signing with Saturated Records, we’re finally headlining our own show. Before now, most shows we did had our name in small print under the band that was to be the primary attraction. Now we’re it. Our record was easy to record, unlike what most people say. I forget who said it, but some famous singer once said the first record is always the easiest because you can’t possibly screw it up. It’s true, but I felt like a lot was riding on it, and what do you know? People like it. I think it’s a good record. Very well done.
We we’re backstage at the venue, shooting the breeze with some of the other bands. Michelle left to meet her boyfriend at his house. Stan and I were having a great time by ourselves. Telling jokes, hearing hilarious stories. It was a blast, but all good things must end as I’ve come to find out. We had to get going. Home was not far, just a few blocks away. Stan drove. My car had been returned to me, good as new. Well, almost.
Stan parked and we went into our new pad, a two bedroom apartment. We split the rent and have enough money to get us to the end of the month. The money we make from our jobs plus money from the label is just enough to live happily. Stan went into his room and went straight to sleep. I, on the other hand, had one last thing to do before I went to bed. In my closet, next to my music gear, lay a box with no indentation whatsoever on it’s surface. Underneath was something I could never give up. Yeah, you know it.
I diapered myself slow. Enjoying the feeling of plastic against my stomach and thighs. The tape went slow because I didn’t want it to be too loud. In my mind, it felt like the loudest sound in the world, like thunder. One by one, the tape lay flat on the front of the diaper. It was done being assembled and I stood up, feeling the soft cotton-like material on me. It felt so secure, and it made me secure. It had been so long since I’ve honestly enjoyed them that it was relieving to find joy in them again. Tonight, I would sleep in it, then wake up and change before I was caught by Stan.
Morning came and went. I woke up at 11:45, thinking Stan was already up and about. Little did I know, he would be awake at 1:30. That short little heart attack was terrifying. I immediately woke and changed out of my diaper. I lurked out of my bedroom, looking for signs of an awake Stan. I was relieved to hear his snoring come out from his room with the open door. Thank you, god.
What woke Stan up was his phone. It had no fancy ring tone, but a simple ring. His voice sound sick, almost. “Hello?”, He said, “Mike, what’s up?”, he continued, “What? Who? Jesus Christ!”. He leaped out of bed. “You’re are serious?”, He yelled into the phone. I lurked back in my chair to peak into this bedroom. I sat at the kitchen table, playing World of Warcraft on my computer. Yeah, I’m addicted.
Stan came out of his bedroom with a still, silent phone in his hand. His excitement was enough to shock him awake. “That was Mike.”, He said
“Yeah…”
“He got a call from Tony yesterday night after the show.”
“And?”
“Tony got us a spot on the Warped Tour.”
“Shit.”
Needless to say, Michelle was just as excited about it as we were. I could hear a loud, audible ‘Shit’ on Stan’s cell when he called her. Yeah, she was happy. The tour wouldn’t be for another month, but already I wanted to go out and play. Finally a chance to show the world what we got. It was an a amazing feeling to get this chance. Finally, some acceptance. No more going nowhere. I was so happy, I could puke. Never did I think we would get to play on the tour so soon, if at all. Our record was only a few months old, still getting up there in recognition. Yeah, some big bands had left some comments on our Myspace, but nothing major was coming out way. But this… this was it. Our time, our chance.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Going Nowhere, Chapter Sixteen: Have A Nice Day
Christ. What could this mean? What is going on right now? Why is she here? Is this destiny, or am I having some sort of disillusion? Am I sick? Is there a god? Is he setting out our fate to be intertwined at predestined dates? Or is this all a dramatic coincidence, having no meaning at all? I’m so frightened, so confused.
She walked away, not looking back once. I stood alone in the aisle, holding onto a CD I was looking at before she asked me if I was alright. I was stunned be her very appearance. Never did I think I would see her in person. She was just as beautiful. I knew it was her. Her face was so recognizable. I could spot it in a crowded room. Now, I stand here, trying to wonder if this is all real. That dream, it’s really starting to scare me. First Michelle, now her. She’s been on my mind since I first saw her when I was 17 years old. Now, I’m 23, out of college, working at a music store as a store clerk and playing guitar in a punk band, and she still is on my mind. Steve told me I should get over her, but I can’t seem to find a way. The fact that I don’t know a single thing about her except for what my fantasy brings makes her all the more desirable. Here she was, Brian, now what are you going to do? What are you going to do?
From behind me, Stan casually walked up and startled me with his hand on my shoulder. “Wo, man. You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.”
“You going to get that?”, He said pointing to the CD in my hand.
“Naw.”
“You know you should do?”
“What?”
“Buy WOW and start playing with me and Jimmy.”
“No, I’ll pass.”
“Oh, you are going to start playing and it will consume you.”
“I’m fine. I got work and the band, I’m fine with that,”
“Just saying. It’s fun.”
“You find your movie?”
“Right here.” He held it up and tapped it with his index finger.
“Cool, Let’s get out of here.” Stan followed me to the register. We got into a small line, waiting behind two women, both looking like they had no relationship to one another. One of the cash registers opened up and the woman in front filled it’s spot. She looked whipped, almost. The other was very well groomed, having very pretty hair and eyes covered by large, studded glasses. The whipped woman left, having paid for her items and the other woman took her place. Stan caught my attention by asking a question, “So, got any new ideas for the band?”
“A few. I’ve been fucking around on the guitar, making up some new stuff.”
“You know, Jimmy knows some people.”
“What kind of people?”
“Some people, like Anthony Calvin.”
“Anthony Calvin? The dude from Stereo Demon ?”
“Yep.”
“Man, their last CD was vicious.”
“Yeah. Jimmy’s sister dated a roadie from the last tour and he hooked them up with some pretty good gear, so now they’re tight.”
“So, what does this mean?”
“Anthony heard our shit and liked it. He’s thinking about getting us a contract?”
“What the fuck?”
“Yeah.”
“We just barely got back on our feet. We even haven’t recorded anything yet. The shit he‘s hearing is from our senior year. More then five years old.”
“And he likes it.” I caught the words he was saying. He did like it, and that means that the stuff knew could have the potential to blow him away. I would hesitate to think so.
“I don’t think this is the proper place to discuss this.” I said, “Let’s get Michelle and talk about this our loft.”
“Okay, that’s a good idea.”
Stan and I returned to our loft and called Michelle, telling her we had to have a band meeting. She complied and was over at our loft in less then a half an hour. She came in, greeting us and putting her car keys and purse on our coffee table. “So, what’s with the meeting.” She asked.
“Well, Stan told me about Anthony Calvin from Stereo Demon wanting to give a contract and I wanted to discuss this further with everyone.” I said.
“Oh, Tony, yeah. Jimmy told me about that this morning.”
“What do you think?”
“Well, I’m kind of for it, but it just seems really soon., you know.”
“I’m for it. I really feel ready with what we got. At least for an EP” Stan added.
“It’s just not sitting well with me, Stan.”, I said.
“Yeah, I understand that, but I really feel we are ready for this. I’ve wanted it since High School, I know you two want it too. It just seems like the right thing to do.”
“Yeah, but we haven’t recorded any thing new in five years. We just got back on our feet and did a show, it seems getting a record contract is a little too fast for us.”
“It’s not a giant label like Fat Wreck Chords. It’s something small to get our feet off the ground. We’ll produce the EP, tour a little and if things go well, we’ll have our debut album in a year or two.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, Brian. Why did you come and find me to get the band back together?”
“Because I didn’t like where I was-”
“Exactly! Don’t tell me you are not ready because you showed you were ready when you came and found me.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes. Whole heartedly.”
“Michelle?”
“Well, we’ve got nothing to lose. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Please don’t say that.”
“Brian?” Stan looked at me, sitting in his bean bag chair. “You are the last piece of this punk rock puzzle. You down?”
“I’m just not comfortable with it.”
“Give me just one chance. At least for an EP?” I laid back in the chair I was sitting in with my hands on my face. “I hate you two so much.” was all I could say.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes…”
“Alright.” Stan leaped up and went to his phone, calling Jimmy. “You wont regret this, Brian.” He yelled from across the loft.
“It’s going to be alright.” Michelle reassured me.
“Yeah, I know. Maybe I’m just too comfortable with never going anywhere.”
“Looks like that’s not the case anymore.”
“What?”
“We’re going somewhere.”
“I guess so.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You look bothered.”
“It’s complicated to explain.”
“What?”
“It’s a girl issue.”
“How so?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, well, I had this dream a while back with this girl in it. Then, today, she popped up at Best Buy and I just feel weird about it.”
“What kind of weird?”
“I don’t know.” I took a breath as she paused to respond.
“You think it’s fate, don’t you?”
“What?”
“You think it’s meant to be.”
“Maybe, but I just feel weird about it.”
“Well, go talk to her.”
“I don’t know. I think it might be strange to go up to her and say, ‘Hey, I had a dream about you and I think you are the love of my life.’”
“You never know until you try.”
“I guess so.”
“You have a confidence issue, don’t you?”
“Not a big one, per se.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll help. Come with me.” Michelle got up and I followed. “Hey, Stan, we’ll be right back, okay?” She shouted.
“Okay.” He shouted right back.
Michelle and I got into her car and drove to the Best Buy. She parked out front, leaving the car quickly. She was moving at a no bull shit pace. This was very Michelle. She had her mind set on something, not letting the slightest obstacle get in her way. We entered the store and walked around until her face caught my eye. The girl with no identity stuck out like a sore thumb. She was working at a register. No lines were apparent. I pointed her out to Michelle. Michelle keyed in on her and dragged me to the video game section. She pulled out a large box with the words “World of Warcraft: Battlechest” on the front in big, bold letters. “Take this and go buy it from her.”
“But I don’t want it.”
“Tough. Love means sacrifice.”
“Did Stan put you up to this?”
“No, he didn’t. This is the video game area, it would seem odd you came up there with anything else but a video game. Plus, it really is a fun game and you should at least give it a try.”
“You play, too?”
“Brian, that’s not the point. I’m just sick of you being alone all the time. You never go anywhere except for shows. All you do is sit on the couch and fiddle with your guitar. You are depressed and I can tell. I’m your friend and I care about you. You need someone, Brian.”
“Okay, so it was Steve?”
“Just go over there and ask her out to lunch!”
“Okay.” I held up my hands in defense and walked over to the register. It occurred to me that, as I got closer, I was the closest then I have ever been before. Every step was a realization of dreams. All I could think of was that I wished I had a diaper on. My newly acquired self control was at it’s limits. Not only that, but I felt vulnerable for some reason. I felt like I needed protection self-consciously. Finally, I’m near her. She greets me with a soft smile and says hello in the prettiest voice, “Hi, how can I help you?”
“Uh,” I placed the games on the counter and utter very quietly, “Just this.”
“Okay.” She maintained a bright smile as she scanned my item for purchase. She stated the total and I held up my debit card, telling her it was debit. I swiped it and entered my pin. She clicked a few keys and had me press ‘okay’. The transaction was over and she put the game into a plastic bad. She smiled and said, “Have a nice day.”
And I turned around. I was too afraid. Off in the distance, Michelle was watching intently, gesturing me to turn around again and ask her out to lunch. This was it. I was too afraid to face it, but this was it. It’s all or nothing. I can’t face myself until I can face her and say I love you. I don’t know you, but I love you. I’m a fool caught in a nightmare of romance. The boat was slowly leaving and it was my turn. I turned, and a squeal. The girl jumped a little and ran into the arms of another guy, kissing him excitingly. She looked so happy. They looked pretty together. She was taken. Little to my knowledge, the boat was already gone. My dreams all smoky and incomplete. It’s all done, now. Michelle came by my side and spoke in the same failed attitude that I felt. “Well, that sucks.”
“I hate my life.”
“Don’t say that. I saw you were about to try. At least you saved yourself the embarrassment of asking out a taken women.”
“Let’s just go.”
“Brian, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I almost tried. That’s the least anyone can ask of me.”
We walked out to the car. Clouds were forming. It was getting dark, too. Hours pass quickly in this town. But it seemed not to bother me. At least not now. Her unavailability made her nothing more then a dream. Maybe it was just a dream to begin with. Dreams are nothing really when you think about them. They are images of what you want. They can not come true, only earned. I made one part come true, and there is nothing I can do about the other part. I tired. That’s all I can do is try.
She walked away, not looking back once. I stood alone in the aisle, holding onto a CD I was looking at before she asked me if I was alright. I was stunned be her very appearance. Never did I think I would see her in person. She was just as beautiful. I knew it was her. Her face was so recognizable. I could spot it in a crowded room. Now, I stand here, trying to wonder if this is all real. That dream, it’s really starting to scare me. First Michelle, now her. She’s been on my mind since I first saw her when I was 17 years old. Now, I’m 23, out of college, working at a music store as a store clerk and playing guitar in a punk band, and she still is on my mind. Steve told me I should get over her, but I can’t seem to find a way. The fact that I don’t know a single thing about her except for what my fantasy brings makes her all the more desirable. Here she was, Brian, now what are you going to do? What are you going to do?
From behind me, Stan casually walked up and startled me with his hand on my shoulder. “Wo, man. You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.”
“You going to get that?”, He said pointing to the CD in my hand.
“Naw.”
“You know you should do?”
“What?”
“Buy WOW and start playing with me and Jimmy.”
“No, I’ll pass.”
“Oh, you are going to start playing and it will consume you.”
“I’m fine. I got work and the band, I’m fine with that,”
“Just saying. It’s fun.”
“You find your movie?”
“Right here.” He held it up and tapped it with his index finger.
“Cool, Let’s get out of here.” Stan followed me to the register. We got into a small line, waiting behind two women, both looking like they had no relationship to one another. One of the cash registers opened up and the woman in front filled it’s spot. She looked whipped, almost. The other was very well groomed, having very pretty hair and eyes covered by large, studded glasses. The whipped woman left, having paid for her items and the other woman took her place. Stan caught my attention by asking a question, “So, got any new ideas for the band?”
“A few. I’ve been fucking around on the guitar, making up some new stuff.”
“You know, Jimmy knows some people.”
“What kind of people?”
“Some people, like Anthony Calvin.”
“Anthony Calvin? The dude from Stereo Demon ?”
“Yep.”
“Man, their last CD was vicious.”
“Yeah. Jimmy’s sister dated a roadie from the last tour and he hooked them up with some pretty good gear, so now they’re tight.”
“So, what does this mean?”
“Anthony heard our shit and liked it. He’s thinking about getting us a contract?”
“What the fuck?”
“Yeah.”
“We just barely got back on our feet. We even haven’t recorded anything yet. The shit he‘s hearing is from our senior year. More then five years old.”
“And he likes it.” I caught the words he was saying. He did like it, and that means that the stuff knew could have the potential to blow him away. I would hesitate to think so.
“I don’t think this is the proper place to discuss this.” I said, “Let’s get Michelle and talk about this our loft.”
“Okay, that’s a good idea.”
Stan and I returned to our loft and called Michelle, telling her we had to have a band meeting. She complied and was over at our loft in less then a half an hour. She came in, greeting us and putting her car keys and purse on our coffee table. “So, what’s with the meeting.” She asked.
“Well, Stan told me about Anthony Calvin from Stereo Demon wanting to give a contract and I wanted to discuss this further with everyone.” I said.
“Oh, Tony, yeah. Jimmy told me about that this morning.”
“What do you think?”
“Well, I’m kind of for it, but it just seems really soon., you know.”
“I’m for it. I really feel ready with what we got. At least for an EP” Stan added.
“It’s just not sitting well with me, Stan.”, I said.
“Yeah, I understand that, but I really feel we are ready for this. I’ve wanted it since High School, I know you two want it too. It just seems like the right thing to do.”
“Yeah, but we haven’t recorded any thing new in five years. We just got back on our feet and did a show, it seems getting a record contract is a little too fast for us.”
“It’s not a giant label like Fat Wreck Chords. It’s something small to get our feet off the ground. We’ll produce the EP, tour a little and if things go well, we’ll have our debut album in a year or two.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, Brian. Why did you come and find me to get the band back together?”
“Because I didn’t like where I was-”
“Exactly! Don’t tell me you are not ready because you showed you were ready when you came and found me.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes. Whole heartedly.”
“Michelle?”
“Well, we’ve got nothing to lose. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Please don’t say that.”
“Brian?” Stan looked at me, sitting in his bean bag chair. “You are the last piece of this punk rock puzzle. You down?”
“I’m just not comfortable with it.”
“Give me just one chance. At least for an EP?” I laid back in the chair I was sitting in with my hands on my face. “I hate you two so much.” was all I could say.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes…”
“Alright.” Stan leaped up and went to his phone, calling Jimmy. “You wont regret this, Brian.” He yelled from across the loft.
“It’s going to be alright.” Michelle reassured me.
“Yeah, I know. Maybe I’m just too comfortable with never going anywhere.”
“Looks like that’s not the case anymore.”
“What?”
“We’re going somewhere.”
“I guess so.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You look bothered.”
“It’s complicated to explain.”
“What?”
“It’s a girl issue.”
“How so?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, well, I had this dream a while back with this girl in it. Then, today, she popped up at Best Buy and I just feel weird about it.”
“What kind of weird?”
“I don’t know.” I took a breath as she paused to respond.
“You think it’s fate, don’t you?”
“What?”
“You think it’s meant to be.”
“Maybe, but I just feel weird about it.”
“Well, go talk to her.”
“I don’t know. I think it might be strange to go up to her and say, ‘Hey, I had a dream about you and I think you are the love of my life.’”
“You never know until you try.”
“I guess so.”
“You have a confidence issue, don’t you?”
“Not a big one, per se.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll help. Come with me.” Michelle got up and I followed. “Hey, Stan, we’ll be right back, okay?” She shouted.
“Okay.” He shouted right back.
Michelle and I got into her car and drove to the Best Buy. She parked out front, leaving the car quickly. She was moving at a no bull shit pace. This was very Michelle. She had her mind set on something, not letting the slightest obstacle get in her way. We entered the store and walked around until her face caught my eye. The girl with no identity stuck out like a sore thumb. She was working at a register. No lines were apparent. I pointed her out to Michelle. Michelle keyed in on her and dragged me to the video game section. She pulled out a large box with the words “World of Warcraft: Battlechest” on the front in big, bold letters. “Take this and go buy it from her.”
“But I don’t want it.”
“Tough. Love means sacrifice.”
“Did Stan put you up to this?”
“No, he didn’t. This is the video game area, it would seem odd you came up there with anything else but a video game. Plus, it really is a fun game and you should at least give it a try.”
“You play, too?”
“Brian, that’s not the point. I’m just sick of you being alone all the time. You never go anywhere except for shows. All you do is sit on the couch and fiddle with your guitar. You are depressed and I can tell. I’m your friend and I care about you. You need someone, Brian.”
“Okay, so it was Steve?”
“Just go over there and ask her out to lunch!”
“Okay.” I held up my hands in defense and walked over to the register. It occurred to me that, as I got closer, I was the closest then I have ever been before. Every step was a realization of dreams. All I could think of was that I wished I had a diaper on. My newly acquired self control was at it’s limits. Not only that, but I felt vulnerable for some reason. I felt like I needed protection self-consciously. Finally, I’m near her. She greets me with a soft smile and says hello in the prettiest voice, “Hi, how can I help you?”
“Uh,” I placed the games on the counter and utter very quietly, “Just this.”
“Okay.” She maintained a bright smile as she scanned my item for purchase. She stated the total and I held up my debit card, telling her it was debit. I swiped it and entered my pin. She clicked a few keys and had me press ‘okay’. The transaction was over and she put the game into a plastic bad. She smiled and said, “Have a nice day.”
And I turned around. I was too afraid. Off in the distance, Michelle was watching intently, gesturing me to turn around again and ask her out to lunch. This was it. I was too afraid to face it, but this was it. It’s all or nothing. I can’t face myself until I can face her and say I love you. I don’t know you, but I love you. I’m a fool caught in a nightmare of romance. The boat was slowly leaving and it was my turn. I turned, and a squeal. The girl jumped a little and ran into the arms of another guy, kissing him excitingly. She looked so happy. They looked pretty together. She was taken. Little to my knowledge, the boat was already gone. My dreams all smoky and incomplete. It’s all done, now. Michelle came by my side and spoke in the same failed attitude that I felt. “Well, that sucks.”
“I hate my life.”
“Don’t say that. I saw you were about to try. At least you saved yourself the embarrassment of asking out a taken women.”
“Let’s just go.”
“Brian, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I almost tried. That’s the least anyone can ask of me.”
We walked out to the car. Clouds were forming. It was getting dark, too. Hours pass quickly in this town. But it seemed not to bother me. At least not now. Her unavailability made her nothing more then a dream. Maybe it was just a dream to begin with. Dreams are nothing really when you think about them. They are images of what you want. They can not come true, only earned. I made one part come true, and there is nothing I can do about the other part. I tired. That’s all I can do is try.
Going Nowhere, Chapter Fifteen: The Regulators
“Yeah, I still don’t get it…”
“It’s simple. We are a punk band with an authority-like name which is a meant to inspire people.”
“Yeah. But wouldn’t the Anti-Regulators make more sense?”
“Never mind, Steve.”
I hate being late. I normally try to be punctual, but force beyond control seem to always be in the way, like Steve passing out and forgetting to pick me up at 6:00. I’m not mad, but I hate being late. Steve’s eyes were still a little red, but he drove like he was an instructor. I sat in the passenger seat, looking in amazement at his textbook skills behind the wheel. Maybe some people are better when they are high. I wouldn’t be familiar with the feeling because drugs were never my thing.
Steve’s old station wagon pulled closer to the club and the line of people outside was very visible. Most were there to see a band that has been a around for a while, but we got onto the bill and were the opening act, which was nice. Steve pulled into the alley next to the club, were our trailer lay still, attached to Michelle’s van that she got from her dad. He’s letting us have it for a while. Across from the van was the door to the back stage. In front of it, chatting away, were Michelle, Stan and Jimmy and two other unfamiliar figures. Steve stopped and killed the engine, pulling up on the emergency brake after taking out the keys. We exited the car and approached the others. Stan took immediate notice. “About fucking time, we go on in 10 minutes.”
“Hey, I can’t help that Steve passed out and forget to come get me.”
“Steve, you were passed out?” Jimmy asked him as he approached.
“Yeah, man. I ate too much after I got high. That new shit is strong.”
“Whose watching the store?”
“Sam is, isn’t she?”
“No! Today’s her day off.”
“Oh shit.”
“Fuck!” Jimmy exclaimed as he ran to his car and started the engine, feverishly heading to his store.
“Oh, man, I hope I don’t get fired.”
“Naw, Jimmy did the same thing 4 months ago, only he was wasted.” Stan pointed out.
“Let’s get going.” I said as I venture backstage to our equipment. Most was already all set up on stage, with the exception of Michelle and Mine’s guitars, which were all tuned up. Michelle pulled the strap over her neck and asked a quick but important question. “What are we playing first?”
“Teen Spirit.” Stan answered rapidly. I could tell he was excited about this. This was out first real show in a while. It felt so professional. We were used to garage show with our friends. It all felt so real to me, like a dream come true.
We took the stage. Stan sat behind his drum kit, hitting random drums as he tested his equipment. I approached the microphone and spoke into it. “Hey, We’re the Regulators.” A subtle applause rung out. “This first song is an oldie, but goodie.” I stepped back from the microphone and strummed my guitar a couple times, then stepped on the distortion box next to my feet, turning off the distortion too my guitar and giving it a clean sound. The crowd quieted down and I began to strum the first few bars. The crowd applauded upon recognition and began to clap. Stan interrupted their cheers with furious pounding drum. His became a blur, banging up and down like a hammer. Michelle’s long, blonde hair was everywhere as she thrashed around to the song. The first part ended and I sang with my long, drawl voice, matching the style of Kurt Cobain, which is not my style as everyone knows.
“Smells Like Teen Spirit” ended as fast as it began, and we went into our own songs. We were really showing off what we could do in these songs. Very technical, but very punk-ish. The crowd was really digging our tunes, which was cool. They were relatively unfamiliar faces, which meant that we were attracting a new crowd of people. Our set ended after 15 minutes and we exited the stage, going out the back and loading our equipment. Jimmy had returned, relieved to find the Sam was indeed working today’s shift. Steve let him have his ‘I told you so’, then immediately let it go. Friends are strange.
Jimmy, Stan and Michelle all went back to Jimmy’s apartment to play an online computer game that they liked to play and smoke some of that pot Steve was talking about earlier. Steve and I were very hungry and decided to get something to eat before we joined them. Steve drove to a small diner, saying he was craving a giant hamburger and fries, which didn’t sound bad at all. We entered and sat down, both ordering the same thing. We then talked about the show until the food arrived. “Man, that was a great set.”, Steve exclaimed excitingly.
“Yeah, tonight was a good night.”
“Did you see all the chicks eyeing you?”
“Yeah, I saw them.”
“How come you never ask any of them out, man. I haven’t seen you with any women since you got here last year.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I’m really not that interested, you know.”
“Are you gay?”
“No, I’m not gay.”
“Are you sure, man. Gay people are cool, you know.”
“I’m not gay!”
“Alright.”
“I’m just picky, I guess.”
“Well, try to un-pick-ify yourself.”
“What?”
“Lower you standards man. You will never get anyone if you keep comparing them to your brain lady.”
“My what?”
“Brain lady. It’s what I call the women in your head that loves you and says all the right words and never seems to upset you in any way. She’s all in your head, man, and you need to let her go.”
“I guess.”
The burgers were excellent. My nervous stomach finally settled with that meal. I decided to spend the rest of the night relaxing and staying away from any kind of drug behavior. I have enough bad habits. As Steve dropped me off ay Stan and mine’s loft, I checked my cell phone messages. One, from my insurance. I was in a car accident two weeks ago and my car was in the shop. Insurance is going to cover it all, thank god. I got nailed by some psycho broad going 50 miles per hours. She only hit me on the side of my bumper, but buckled and flattened my tire. Damages aren’t too bad. At least I’m alright. Car should be ready by next week. Until, I need chauffeurs.
I turned off my cell phone and placed it next to my mattress. I laid quietly in bed, hoping for a good dream. No dreams have come to me lately. It’s a little disheartening. One, however, was pretty good. It was with her again. The beautiful brunette. This time, we were both indulging in the cushioning of a soft, plain white diaper. She wear a plain T-shirt and a gorgeous smile, something I always think about. We did nothing but hold each other in a plain white room. Things were so bright, much like it was before in my last dream. Then in rattled in. What Steve said. Lower my standard. Let go of her. Was I ready? They say you should never give up on your dreams, but was this so far out there that it was beyond my reach? Maybe. Stranger things have happened.
Late night, early morning. That what it seems like lately. I seem to be only getting a few hours of sleep, then I’m awake for 20 hours. Amazing, but the least of my worries. I’m going to buy underwear today. I haven’t wet myself in a month and a half. It feels amazing to know that I’m finally back into control. I haven’t worn a diaper in a while. A real diaper, I mean. The big, white, plastic kind. I loved those, but I need to move on. I need to hide this, put it away and forget about for a while. At least I feel comfortable with it again. That was, to say the least, a farfetched idea because I’m not sure if I will ever be comfortable with it again.
I stumbled through the loft, seeing Stan’s body lumped over his mattress, dead asleep. I would think he was dead if it wasn’t for his loud, monotonous snoring pattern. I’ve grown so used to it, I don’t hear it anymore. I sat at our table and opened my laptop, logging onto our music page on Myspace. Several new messages and friend request, mostly from last nights show. It began to dawn on my. This could work out. Sure, it was a slow process, but steady. Then an idea popped in my head; Record contract. I think Stan mentioned it a while back, but now it seemed tangible. Get more demos done, show them around, sign to a label and record a record. It wasn’t that hard. No too hard for those who want it badly, and Stan, Michelle, and I definitely wanted it badly.
Stan arose moments after I closed my web browser and started playing solitaire. He walked in a zombie trance to me and my stared at my laptop. His mouth opened wide to let out a big yawn, but among the sound of his voice, words came through. “You need to play WOW.”
“No, thank you.”
“It’s fun, man.”
“Sure it is, and so does having a social life.”
“Hey, it’s not I get sucked into it.”
“Yeah, 10 hours a day isn’t overkill.”
“That was once and it was on my day off.”
“Yeah yeah. You going to drive me to Alders?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
I was only in the store for five minutes. I’m lucky that my size hasn’t changed and the number is still ingrained in my head. Stan wanted to go to Best Buy afterwards and get a movie that he likes. Some indie movie that I’ve never seen. He stormed away from the clothes store and went all the way to Best Buy, parking rather crookedly. We entered the cool store and were greeted by the greeter, standing at his station looking like he has better stuff to do that isn’t work related. Stan immediately wondered away, browsing the movies up and down. I had nothing I really wanted to buy, but I made it seem so. I looked through the CD’s, finding nothing interesting. As my fingers sifted through the selection of music, feet plotting the ground next to me caught the corner of my eye. The recognizable blue shirt signified the person as an employee. The long hair and protruding chest signified it as a woman. She was restocking CD’s and rearranging misplaced ones. I ignored her because I didn’t feel like falling in love. Whenever I see a girl, it seems that way. I look at her face and I imagine the fantasy. I crack a joke, she laughs. I ask her out, she says yes. We date for a while, I ask her to marry me, she says yes. We are madly in love and life could not be more textbook perfect.
But I know, I always know. It’s not real. It’s all in my head. As soon as I look at her face, I will picture the fantasy, say nothing and live in regret. That’s how life goes. But what if I don’t let it happen? What if I do say something, perhaps? Could this fantasy become reality? Maybe my dream can come true, like it did for Stan, Michelle and I. Jesus H. Christ, Brian, pull yourself together. That was a damn coincidence. Shit like that only happens in dreams and movies. Stuff that is not real. In reality, I’m going to marry some wench and waste my life living in regret. Dreams don’t come true, only coincidences. “Are you finding everything okay, sir?”
“Yeah.” I said as I looked up at her. Her red hair laid brushed and unmolested. Over her nose, glasses laid still. She was the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, and she was real. She was standing in front of me. The girl from my dreams was standing in front of my, talking to me and suddenly I was speechless. I stared, not trying to be discrete. “Sir?”
“What?”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine?”
“Okay.” She said as she walked away. I watched her intently, step by step. Dear god, what just happened.
“It’s simple. We are a punk band with an authority-like name which is a meant to inspire people.”
“Yeah. But wouldn’t the Anti-Regulators make more sense?”
“Never mind, Steve.”
I hate being late. I normally try to be punctual, but force beyond control seem to always be in the way, like Steve passing out and forgetting to pick me up at 6:00. I’m not mad, but I hate being late. Steve’s eyes were still a little red, but he drove like he was an instructor. I sat in the passenger seat, looking in amazement at his textbook skills behind the wheel. Maybe some people are better when they are high. I wouldn’t be familiar with the feeling because drugs were never my thing.
Steve’s old station wagon pulled closer to the club and the line of people outside was very visible. Most were there to see a band that has been a around for a while, but we got onto the bill and were the opening act, which was nice. Steve pulled into the alley next to the club, were our trailer lay still, attached to Michelle’s van that she got from her dad. He’s letting us have it for a while. Across from the van was the door to the back stage. In front of it, chatting away, were Michelle, Stan and Jimmy and two other unfamiliar figures. Steve stopped and killed the engine, pulling up on the emergency brake after taking out the keys. We exited the car and approached the others. Stan took immediate notice. “About fucking time, we go on in 10 minutes.”
“Hey, I can’t help that Steve passed out and forget to come get me.”
“Steve, you were passed out?” Jimmy asked him as he approached.
“Yeah, man. I ate too much after I got high. That new shit is strong.”
“Whose watching the store?”
“Sam is, isn’t she?”
“No! Today’s her day off.”
“Oh shit.”
“Fuck!” Jimmy exclaimed as he ran to his car and started the engine, feverishly heading to his store.
“Oh, man, I hope I don’t get fired.”
“Naw, Jimmy did the same thing 4 months ago, only he was wasted.” Stan pointed out.
“Let’s get going.” I said as I venture backstage to our equipment. Most was already all set up on stage, with the exception of Michelle and Mine’s guitars, which were all tuned up. Michelle pulled the strap over her neck and asked a quick but important question. “What are we playing first?”
“Teen Spirit.” Stan answered rapidly. I could tell he was excited about this. This was out first real show in a while. It felt so professional. We were used to garage show with our friends. It all felt so real to me, like a dream come true.
We took the stage. Stan sat behind his drum kit, hitting random drums as he tested his equipment. I approached the microphone and spoke into it. “Hey, We’re the Regulators.” A subtle applause rung out. “This first song is an oldie, but goodie.” I stepped back from the microphone and strummed my guitar a couple times, then stepped on the distortion box next to my feet, turning off the distortion too my guitar and giving it a clean sound. The crowd quieted down and I began to strum the first few bars. The crowd applauded upon recognition and began to clap. Stan interrupted their cheers with furious pounding drum. His became a blur, banging up and down like a hammer. Michelle’s long, blonde hair was everywhere as she thrashed around to the song. The first part ended and I sang with my long, drawl voice, matching the style of Kurt Cobain, which is not my style as everyone knows.
“Smells Like Teen Spirit” ended as fast as it began, and we went into our own songs. We were really showing off what we could do in these songs. Very technical, but very punk-ish. The crowd was really digging our tunes, which was cool. They were relatively unfamiliar faces, which meant that we were attracting a new crowd of people. Our set ended after 15 minutes and we exited the stage, going out the back and loading our equipment. Jimmy had returned, relieved to find the Sam was indeed working today’s shift. Steve let him have his ‘I told you so’, then immediately let it go. Friends are strange.
Jimmy, Stan and Michelle all went back to Jimmy’s apartment to play an online computer game that they liked to play and smoke some of that pot Steve was talking about earlier. Steve and I were very hungry and decided to get something to eat before we joined them. Steve drove to a small diner, saying he was craving a giant hamburger and fries, which didn’t sound bad at all. We entered and sat down, both ordering the same thing. We then talked about the show until the food arrived. “Man, that was a great set.”, Steve exclaimed excitingly.
“Yeah, tonight was a good night.”
“Did you see all the chicks eyeing you?”
“Yeah, I saw them.”
“How come you never ask any of them out, man. I haven’t seen you with any women since you got here last year.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I’m really not that interested, you know.”
“Are you gay?”
“No, I’m not gay.”
“Are you sure, man. Gay people are cool, you know.”
“I’m not gay!”
“Alright.”
“I’m just picky, I guess.”
“Well, try to un-pick-ify yourself.”
“What?”
“Lower you standards man. You will never get anyone if you keep comparing them to your brain lady.”
“My what?”
“Brain lady. It’s what I call the women in your head that loves you and says all the right words and never seems to upset you in any way. She’s all in your head, man, and you need to let her go.”
“I guess.”
The burgers were excellent. My nervous stomach finally settled with that meal. I decided to spend the rest of the night relaxing and staying away from any kind of drug behavior. I have enough bad habits. As Steve dropped me off ay Stan and mine’s loft, I checked my cell phone messages. One, from my insurance. I was in a car accident two weeks ago and my car was in the shop. Insurance is going to cover it all, thank god. I got nailed by some psycho broad going 50 miles per hours. She only hit me on the side of my bumper, but buckled and flattened my tire. Damages aren’t too bad. At least I’m alright. Car should be ready by next week. Until, I need chauffeurs.
I turned off my cell phone and placed it next to my mattress. I laid quietly in bed, hoping for a good dream. No dreams have come to me lately. It’s a little disheartening. One, however, was pretty good. It was with her again. The beautiful brunette. This time, we were both indulging in the cushioning of a soft, plain white diaper. She wear a plain T-shirt and a gorgeous smile, something I always think about. We did nothing but hold each other in a plain white room. Things were so bright, much like it was before in my last dream. Then in rattled in. What Steve said. Lower my standard. Let go of her. Was I ready? They say you should never give up on your dreams, but was this so far out there that it was beyond my reach? Maybe. Stranger things have happened.
Late night, early morning. That what it seems like lately. I seem to be only getting a few hours of sleep, then I’m awake for 20 hours. Amazing, but the least of my worries. I’m going to buy underwear today. I haven’t wet myself in a month and a half. It feels amazing to know that I’m finally back into control. I haven’t worn a diaper in a while. A real diaper, I mean. The big, white, plastic kind. I loved those, but I need to move on. I need to hide this, put it away and forget about for a while. At least I feel comfortable with it again. That was, to say the least, a farfetched idea because I’m not sure if I will ever be comfortable with it again.
I stumbled through the loft, seeing Stan’s body lumped over his mattress, dead asleep. I would think he was dead if it wasn’t for his loud, monotonous snoring pattern. I’ve grown so used to it, I don’t hear it anymore. I sat at our table and opened my laptop, logging onto our music page on Myspace. Several new messages and friend request, mostly from last nights show. It began to dawn on my. This could work out. Sure, it was a slow process, but steady. Then an idea popped in my head; Record contract. I think Stan mentioned it a while back, but now it seemed tangible. Get more demos done, show them around, sign to a label and record a record. It wasn’t that hard. No too hard for those who want it badly, and Stan, Michelle, and I definitely wanted it badly.
Stan arose moments after I closed my web browser and started playing solitaire. He walked in a zombie trance to me and my stared at my laptop. His mouth opened wide to let out a big yawn, but among the sound of his voice, words came through. “You need to play WOW.”
“No, thank you.”
“It’s fun, man.”
“Sure it is, and so does having a social life.”
“Hey, it’s not I get sucked into it.”
“Yeah, 10 hours a day isn’t overkill.”
“That was once and it was on my day off.”
“Yeah yeah. You going to drive me to Alders?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
I was only in the store for five minutes. I’m lucky that my size hasn’t changed and the number is still ingrained in my head. Stan wanted to go to Best Buy afterwards and get a movie that he likes. Some indie movie that I’ve never seen. He stormed away from the clothes store and went all the way to Best Buy, parking rather crookedly. We entered the cool store and were greeted by the greeter, standing at his station looking like he has better stuff to do that isn’t work related. Stan immediately wondered away, browsing the movies up and down. I had nothing I really wanted to buy, but I made it seem so. I looked through the CD’s, finding nothing interesting. As my fingers sifted through the selection of music, feet plotting the ground next to me caught the corner of my eye. The recognizable blue shirt signified the person as an employee. The long hair and protruding chest signified it as a woman. She was restocking CD’s and rearranging misplaced ones. I ignored her because I didn’t feel like falling in love. Whenever I see a girl, it seems that way. I look at her face and I imagine the fantasy. I crack a joke, she laughs. I ask her out, she says yes. We date for a while, I ask her to marry me, she says yes. We are madly in love and life could not be more textbook perfect.
But I know, I always know. It’s not real. It’s all in my head. As soon as I look at her face, I will picture the fantasy, say nothing and live in regret. That’s how life goes. But what if I don’t let it happen? What if I do say something, perhaps? Could this fantasy become reality? Maybe my dream can come true, like it did for Stan, Michelle and I. Jesus H. Christ, Brian, pull yourself together. That was a damn coincidence. Shit like that only happens in dreams and movies. Stuff that is not real. In reality, I’m going to marry some wench and waste my life living in regret. Dreams don’t come true, only coincidences. “Are you finding everything okay, sir?”
“Yeah.” I said as I looked up at her. Her red hair laid brushed and unmolested. Over her nose, glasses laid still. She was the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, and she was real. She was standing in front of me. The girl from my dreams was standing in front of my, talking to me and suddenly I was speechless. I stared, not trying to be discrete. “Sir?”
“What?”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine?”
“Okay.” She said as she walked away. I watched her intently, step by step. Dear god, what just happened.
Going Nowhere, Chapter Fourteen: When Hell Freezes Over
Stan should be home in an hour. He went to pick up Jimmy's cousin in a town called Victorville, which was about four hours from here, or so I'm told. I decided, before they got here, to try out my new computer. I bought a new laptop because I missed having one. I wanted to check out all my websites, like my Myspace page, or some of my diaper stuff. My email was probably so full, it would freeze the damn computer. I haven't been on a computer in a year.
I entered our loft and looked around to see if the coast was clear. No one was home. I set the laptop down and hurried into the bathroom. I really needed to pee. The door burst open as I ran in and shut it. I pants came off to reveal my adult diaper. I had switched from the plastic ones to this kind, which was like wearing a pull up. It was even more discrete and I was making head way with my re-training. I have been able to feel when I need to go and it's giving me enough time to get to a toilet. All that was needed now was to do it more often so my bladder would get used to it.
I exited the bathroom after a successful try in using the toilet. My diaper, or padded brief as it's called, was dry, so I saw no reason to change it. I opened my new laptop and sat on my mattress as I set it up. It was time consuming. Twenty minutes was gone when it was finally ready for use. I wasted no time in heading straight for the internet explorer icon. The internet was up and running in the place, which was cool. I knew Stan couldn't go without an internet connection. I typed in Diaperbuddies first. I wanted to get all of this out of the way before Stan and Jimmy's cousin arrived. I entered my password and saw two unread messages. Not surprising for an account like this. They were from some friends I made on this site. They were old, too. One was almost a year, with the other only being a few months. I replied to both, apologizing for my absences and responding to their questions.
After that, it was a few other websites. Some diaper-related, some not. My email was filled with almost one hundred unread messages, mostly email notifications from other sites. Finally, I logged onto my Myspace page, which laid dormant for almost two years. I had a pile-up of unread messages, friend request and comment approvals. They were all from old high school friends that I haven't seen in a while. I decided to do some quick edits on my profile. I changed my location to Los Angeles, updated my "About Me" section and took a new picture with Stan camera. I knew people would be interested to see my longer hair and Abraham Lincoln beard, which I thought was cool.
A loud noise broke my concentration while I was typing. I looked up to see Stan opening the door and leading a female into our loft. Her face bore an immediate resemblance to me. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a very skinny body structure. Her face, however, caught my attention. She was the girl in my dream. She was the one who played the upright bass. This was all to strange. She was joining our band as a bass player, and before I met her, she was in my dream with Stan playing upright bass. It was like Deja Vu, but instead with full clarity. "Brian, this is Michelle, Jimmy's cousin." Stan announced.
"Hey, what's up." She said as she extended her arm to greet me.
"Hi." I replied to her as I met her hand. I was trying not to make it seem like I was surprised, but my mind was in shock.
"You must be Brian."
"Yeah. The lead singer."
"I heard your stuff. It sounds cool."
"Thanks. That’s what everyone tells me."
"So, you guys want to jam?" She immediately asked both of us.
"I love this girl. Straight to the point." Stan exclaimed. Michelle laughed, finding his brand of humor rather funny from what it seems. "Brian, can you help me with her stuff?"
"Yeah, sure."
She was all set up. Stan sat behind his drum set, poised to start showing off for Michelle. I set my new guitar up with my amp and did a quick tuning as Michelle did the same. The bass guitar hanging from her shoulder was a popular bass among the Ibanez series. The Ibanez ATK, I believe it‘s called. "Alright, what do you guys want to play?" Stan asked.
"How about some covers?" Michelle suggested.
"What do you know?"
"I know a whole bunch of Offspring and No Use For A Name, a few Bad Religion, and a NoFX song."
"What Offspring do you know?" I asked.
"I know most of their early stuff, most of Americana, and some of the new songs."
"Do you know Gotta Get Away?" Stan asked.
"Yeah."
"Brian, you are oddly reserved. Isn't the Offspring your favorite band?"
"Yes." I responded rather sarcastically.
"They are?" Michelle said with great glee
"Yeah, since I was 8."
"I've been a fan since I was 12."
"Cool."
"Brian loves them. Isn't Gotta Get Away your favorite tune?" Stan pointed out
"Yes. Did you two set this up in the car?"
"No." Stan said innocently.
"Let's just play." Michelle insisted.
"Alright." Stan clicked his sticks and began the opening of the song. Michelle followed easily as I came in, showing off my guitar and vocal skill. As the song ended, it seemed evident that we work together perfectly. We continued playing some more songs, showing her how to play some of ours. She caught on really quick. She was a really good bass player. Way beyond Adam's playing level, which was a feat in itself because Adam was pretty damn good. She even improved some of our songs, adding more to the bass parts then Adam ever did. She was definitely a keeper.
After playing, we went out to eat at the nearby Denny’s. We were hungry and we wanted to get to know her better, or at least I did. I don't know how well Stan got to know her on the way. I was still mesmerized by her striking similarities to the girl in my dream. Maybe that dream was more then a wake-up call.
The waitress came and took orders. She was rather jaded and tired with her hair scraggly and her make-up running a bit. Probably a hard day. She left us to our conversation. "So, Michelle. How long you been playing?" I asked
"Three years." She replied
"Really? Been in any other bands?"
"Well, there was this one band, but we broke up after a year. We were actually kind of good, you know, but we just didn't get along."
"Yeah, we know what you mean."
"So, why did you guys break up for three years?"
"It's a long story."
"We got time."
"Well, Stan and I were really committed to the band, but our old bass player wasn't really all that committed."
"We decided to move to Fresno to get out of our old home town.", Stan took over, "After less then a year of no gigs, he up and left, frustrated with the whole thing."
"We supported ourselves by working part time, and he made the most money out of all us because he didn't go to school, so he worked full time. I had to leave and, by the grace of the lord almighty, got a cheap place in Fresno."
"I went home and stayed for a year, then came to LA."
"Yeah, after about three years, I got a couple degrees under my belt, but I didn't really want to be a English teacher. A friend helped me figure out what I wanted to do with my life. So, I tracked down Stan and got the band back together."
"I was in that band I told you about."
"Is that all?" She asked.
"Pretty much."
"Wow, that was a really boring story." We laughed as the waitress dropped off our food. We continued talking about stuff. "So, you go to school or anything?"
"No, I just graduated. Got a degree in engineering."
"You going to use it?"
"No. I really would rather do music. I've loved music ever since I was little. My dad was a jazz musician and he died of lung cancer when I was six. He left me his saxophone and I started playing. Got into punk music when I was a preteen. Nothing special, just stuff like Good Charlotte and Simple Plan. I grew out of it and really got into Bad Religion for a while. All I wrote was political stuff that was no good. Then I picked up bass guitar. Been stuck ever since."
"Cool. So what are you going to do about practice and shows?"
"I'm moving in with Jimmy. I've been trying to do it for a while, trying to get out of the small town I live in."
"Hmm, cool."
We left the restaurant at around 8:00 and headed back home. Jimmy came by, picked up Michelle and took her back to his place to stay the night. She'll be moving to his place in the next few days. Stan went to sleep early. He was beat from all the driving and the drumming he did. He said that was the fastest he played in a long time. The stuff he did with Anti-Static was nothing compared to what he did with us. He was out and I was left alone with me and my laptop. I checked all my diaper-related accounts first. Everything was like it used to be, just with different names and faces. I forgot how many different profiles I had on different sites. Some sites were long gone and some of the little ones that weren't that popular are now the biggest ones. It was strange how much can change in three years.
I heard footsteps and saw a shadow approach me. "What up, man?" Stan said half dazed. My fingers and eyes stayed on the computer, quickly exiting the site I was on. "I thought you were asleep?"
"Yeah, can't really sleep." He said as he laid back on my mattress across from me.
"Me neither."
"What do you think of Michelle?"
"She's cool."
"Is that all?"
"Why?"
"Because I saw you and the way you stared at her. You like her, don't you?"
"No, I don't."
"Come on, you know it."
"I'm not in the least bit attracted to her in that way."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I was just staring at her because I thought I saw her before."
"Really. That's all?"
"Well, I saw her in a dream."
"What? You saw her in a dream?"
"Yeah, it was this weird dream I had a while ago and she was in it."
"What was the dream about?"
"Us being a band. It was you and me playing together. I had an acoustic guitar and you were playing a snare drum. We were walking in this weird Alice and wonderland setting and we came across her with her upright bass. "
"Wait. You had a dream about her being in our band before you even got the band back together?"
"Yeah."
"That's freaky, man."
"I know."
"I had that happen to me before."
"Really, about a band?"
"No, when you dream about something and it becomes real, like Deja Vu."
"Really?"
"Yeah, It happens to me a lot."
"Hmmm"
"What else did you dream about?"
"We were playing in this dystopian city cover by dark gray clouds that parted when we played."
"What the fuck?"
"Yeah, I don't know what it means too."
"Maybe we'll change the world with our music."
"When hell freezes over."
I entered our loft and looked around to see if the coast was clear. No one was home. I set the laptop down and hurried into the bathroom. I really needed to pee. The door burst open as I ran in and shut it. I pants came off to reveal my adult diaper. I had switched from the plastic ones to this kind, which was like wearing a pull up. It was even more discrete and I was making head way with my re-training. I have been able to feel when I need to go and it's giving me enough time to get to a toilet. All that was needed now was to do it more often so my bladder would get used to it.
I exited the bathroom after a successful try in using the toilet. My diaper, or padded brief as it's called, was dry, so I saw no reason to change it. I opened my new laptop and sat on my mattress as I set it up. It was time consuming. Twenty minutes was gone when it was finally ready for use. I wasted no time in heading straight for the internet explorer icon. The internet was up and running in the place, which was cool. I knew Stan couldn't go without an internet connection. I typed in Diaperbuddies first. I wanted to get all of this out of the way before Stan and Jimmy's cousin arrived. I entered my password and saw two unread messages. Not surprising for an account like this. They were from some friends I made on this site. They were old, too. One was almost a year, with the other only being a few months. I replied to both, apologizing for my absences and responding to their questions.
After that, it was a few other websites. Some diaper-related, some not. My email was filled with almost one hundred unread messages, mostly email notifications from other sites. Finally, I logged onto my Myspace page, which laid dormant for almost two years. I had a pile-up of unread messages, friend request and comment approvals. They were all from old high school friends that I haven't seen in a while. I decided to do some quick edits on my profile. I changed my location to Los Angeles, updated my "About Me" section and took a new picture with Stan camera. I knew people would be interested to see my longer hair and Abraham Lincoln beard, which I thought was cool.
A loud noise broke my concentration while I was typing. I looked up to see Stan opening the door and leading a female into our loft. Her face bore an immediate resemblance to me. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a very skinny body structure. Her face, however, caught my attention. She was the girl in my dream. She was the one who played the upright bass. This was all to strange. She was joining our band as a bass player, and before I met her, she was in my dream with Stan playing upright bass. It was like Deja Vu, but instead with full clarity. "Brian, this is Michelle, Jimmy's cousin." Stan announced.
"Hey, what's up." She said as she extended her arm to greet me.
"Hi." I replied to her as I met her hand. I was trying not to make it seem like I was surprised, but my mind was in shock.
"You must be Brian."
"Yeah. The lead singer."
"I heard your stuff. It sounds cool."
"Thanks. That’s what everyone tells me."
"So, you guys want to jam?" She immediately asked both of us.
"I love this girl. Straight to the point." Stan exclaimed. Michelle laughed, finding his brand of humor rather funny from what it seems. "Brian, can you help me with her stuff?"
"Yeah, sure."
She was all set up. Stan sat behind his drum set, poised to start showing off for Michelle. I set my new guitar up with my amp and did a quick tuning as Michelle did the same. The bass guitar hanging from her shoulder was a popular bass among the Ibanez series. The Ibanez ATK, I believe it‘s called. "Alright, what do you guys want to play?" Stan asked.
"How about some covers?" Michelle suggested.
"What do you know?"
"I know a whole bunch of Offspring and No Use For A Name, a few Bad Religion, and a NoFX song."
"What Offspring do you know?" I asked.
"I know most of their early stuff, most of Americana, and some of the new songs."
"Do you know Gotta Get Away?" Stan asked.
"Yeah."
"Brian, you are oddly reserved. Isn't the Offspring your favorite band?"
"Yes." I responded rather sarcastically.
"They are?" Michelle said with great glee
"Yeah, since I was 8."
"I've been a fan since I was 12."
"Cool."
"Brian loves them. Isn't Gotta Get Away your favorite tune?" Stan pointed out
"Yes. Did you two set this up in the car?"
"No." Stan said innocently.
"Let's just play." Michelle insisted.
"Alright." Stan clicked his sticks and began the opening of the song. Michelle followed easily as I came in, showing off my guitar and vocal skill. As the song ended, it seemed evident that we work together perfectly. We continued playing some more songs, showing her how to play some of ours. She caught on really quick. She was a really good bass player. Way beyond Adam's playing level, which was a feat in itself because Adam was pretty damn good. She even improved some of our songs, adding more to the bass parts then Adam ever did. She was definitely a keeper.
After playing, we went out to eat at the nearby Denny’s. We were hungry and we wanted to get to know her better, or at least I did. I don't know how well Stan got to know her on the way. I was still mesmerized by her striking similarities to the girl in my dream. Maybe that dream was more then a wake-up call.
The waitress came and took orders. She was rather jaded and tired with her hair scraggly and her make-up running a bit. Probably a hard day. She left us to our conversation. "So, Michelle. How long you been playing?" I asked
"Three years." She replied
"Really? Been in any other bands?"
"Well, there was this one band, but we broke up after a year. We were actually kind of good, you know, but we just didn't get along."
"Yeah, we know what you mean."
"So, why did you guys break up for three years?"
"It's a long story."
"We got time."
"Well, Stan and I were really committed to the band, but our old bass player wasn't really all that committed."
"We decided to move to Fresno to get out of our old home town.", Stan took over, "After less then a year of no gigs, he up and left, frustrated with the whole thing."
"We supported ourselves by working part time, and he made the most money out of all us because he didn't go to school, so he worked full time. I had to leave and, by the grace of the lord almighty, got a cheap place in Fresno."
"I went home and stayed for a year, then came to LA."
"Yeah, after about three years, I got a couple degrees under my belt, but I didn't really want to be a English teacher. A friend helped me figure out what I wanted to do with my life. So, I tracked down Stan and got the band back together."
"I was in that band I told you about."
"Is that all?" She asked.
"Pretty much."
"Wow, that was a really boring story." We laughed as the waitress dropped off our food. We continued talking about stuff. "So, you go to school or anything?"
"No, I just graduated. Got a degree in engineering."
"You going to use it?"
"No. I really would rather do music. I've loved music ever since I was little. My dad was a jazz musician and he died of lung cancer when I was six. He left me his saxophone and I started playing. Got into punk music when I was a preteen. Nothing special, just stuff like Good Charlotte and Simple Plan. I grew out of it and really got into Bad Religion for a while. All I wrote was political stuff that was no good. Then I picked up bass guitar. Been stuck ever since."
"Cool. So what are you going to do about practice and shows?"
"I'm moving in with Jimmy. I've been trying to do it for a while, trying to get out of the small town I live in."
"Hmm, cool."
We left the restaurant at around 8:00 and headed back home. Jimmy came by, picked up Michelle and took her back to his place to stay the night. She'll be moving to his place in the next few days. Stan went to sleep early. He was beat from all the driving and the drumming he did. He said that was the fastest he played in a long time. The stuff he did with Anti-Static was nothing compared to what he did with us. He was out and I was left alone with me and my laptop. I checked all my diaper-related accounts first. Everything was like it used to be, just with different names and faces. I forgot how many different profiles I had on different sites. Some sites were long gone and some of the little ones that weren't that popular are now the biggest ones. It was strange how much can change in three years.
I heard footsteps and saw a shadow approach me. "What up, man?" Stan said half dazed. My fingers and eyes stayed on the computer, quickly exiting the site I was on. "I thought you were asleep?"
"Yeah, can't really sleep." He said as he laid back on my mattress across from me.
"Me neither."
"What do you think of Michelle?"
"She's cool."
"Is that all?"
"Why?"
"Because I saw you and the way you stared at her. You like her, don't you?"
"No, I don't."
"Come on, you know it."
"I'm not in the least bit attracted to her in that way."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I was just staring at her because I thought I saw her before."
"Really. That's all?"
"Well, I saw her in a dream."
"What? You saw her in a dream?"
"Yeah, it was this weird dream I had a while ago and she was in it."
"What was the dream about?"
"Us being a band. It was you and me playing together. I had an acoustic guitar and you were playing a snare drum. We were walking in this weird Alice and wonderland setting and we came across her with her upright bass. "
"Wait. You had a dream about her being in our band before you even got the band back together?"
"Yeah."
"That's freaky, man."
"I know."
"I had that happen to me before."
"Really, about a band?"
"No, when you dream about something and it becomes real, like Deja Vu."
"Really?"
"Yeah, It happens to me a lot."
"Hmmm"
"What else did you dream about?"
"We were playing in this dystopian city cover by dark gray clouds that parted when we played."
"What the fuck?"
"Yeah, I don't know what it means too."
"Maybe we'll change the world with our music."
"When hell freezes over."
Going Nowhere, Chapter Thirteen: Long Goodbyes and Short Hellos
Everything I cared for was packed. I didn't have very many thing, other than the essentials. I sold some of my furniture and my last rent payment was paid in full. I told my boss yesterday that I was quitting and moving to Los Angeles. He was less then thrilled, but he couldn't do anything about it. All that was left was to say goodbye to Maya and Naomi. I didn't have those sort of feelings for Naomi when we dated. I guess we're just friends because I'm happier that way. She felt the same and we left it at that.
I stood in front of her door, waiting for her to answer my knock. My apartment was locked and I had my key in my pocket, all ready to be taken by the landlord. Scuffling noise could be heard on the other side. I told Naomi the other day that I was leaving and going to Los Angeles. She was thrilled about me doing what I was doing, but Maya, shall we say, wasn't too happy about me leaving. She has come to like me. The door opened and Naomi stood, holding Maya's hand. "Well, all ready to go?" She said with a smile.
"Yeah, but I wanted to get in one last goodbye before I left."
"Please don't go." Maya cried as she released her mother's grip and hugged my leg.
"Hey, don't worry. This isn't goodbye forever. I'll come and visit."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Okay." She stepped back and re-gripped her mother's hand.
"You better keep you promise." Naomi said.
"I'll call you as soon as I get there. You'll have the address and know where exactly I am."
"Alright. I'm glad you're doing this."
"I am too."
"Okay. Well, I'll see you later."
"Same here."
"Bye."
"Bye."
"Bye-bye!" Maya shouted from the ground.
"Bye-bye, Maya." I rubbed her head as she laughed the perfect child's laugh. Naomi closed the door and I was ready to leave this place. It's been a long time coming, but it's finally time to bid this place farewell. It was a beautiful place to call home, but not at the time. Maybe in the future, I could call it that, but not now. I had a new home ahead of me.
Again, I hate long drives. They irritate the best of us sometimes. The most calm person in the world would not be able to survive in L.A. traffic. I, after longer then anticipated, finally made it to Stan's loft. It was on the second floor of a five story building. He told me he broke the news to his band that he was leaving to pursue greater projects, which was a downer for them because they were about to release their debut disc. I heard a little of it, and, to be completely honest, it sucks. The most modern, generic screamo punk I have ever heard. Sometimes I wonder what happened to the world we lived it, then I realize the problem: Me. I was letting it get to me, and that was the problem. If I didn't let it get to me, there would be no problem, so I rolled it off my shoulder and looked forward to the future. Standing outside, waiting for me, was Stan. I parked my car and he greeted me upon me exiting with a big grin. "What's up, man?", He said with great excitement. He stood in front of a large, dull looking building.
"Hell yeah. So this is paradise? Nice."
"You should see the inside."
"It's probably more empty then your locker in high school."
"Hey, who needed books?"
"You?"
"I wasn't that bad."
"You took Geometry twice."
"Geometry sucks."
"Touché."
"So, I think we have enough room to accommodate you?"
"You better." He grabbed some of my stuff and we marched up the stairs to his room. We walked down a long hall to the very end and Stan open the door. Upon entering, the vast emptiness was the first thing that caught my attention. "Shit, I was right."
"Shut up. I don't have very many luxuries, but at least I got a toilet and my drums." He pointed to his drum set, all set up in the corner.
"Sweet, got any new rhythms to show?"
"You have no idea, man. When I joined Anti-Static, I learned a whole bunch of different styles."
"Really?"
"Yeah, man."
"You still love punk rock, right?"
"Oh, hell yeah, man. I'd never give that up."
"Catch the new Pennywise?"
"Oh, it was incredible."
"I know you'd like it."
"But, you know, I've really been getting into this band called Strike Anywhere."
"Oh, yeah, I heard about them. They any good?"
"Pretty tight band."
"Cool."
"What have you been into?"
"Well, The Offspring, of course."
"Oh, their new disc was bomb."
"Oh yeah, it was. I've also been listening to a lot of A Wilhelm Scream."
"Oh, they are sick."
"I know."
"Hey, I was going to tell you that when I logged on our Myspace to show Jimmy and Steve our stuff, it had like 30 friend request."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. All built up in one year, without any promotion or solicitation."
"That's pretty impressive for a band that never played a gig outside their home town."
"Yeah."
"I haven't been on my Myspace page in two years."
"Really? Damn, that secluded?"
"Hey, I had to sell my laptop."
"Maybe you can get a new one."
"Maybe. We'll have to see how my job hunt goes down here."
"I could pull a few strings and get you a job at Breaking Music, or something like that."
"Thanks."
We spent the next hour unpacking, putting things into place. I had my mattress on the roof of my car, tried down like an escaped convict. I'm surprised it stayed on. We brought that up together and put it in the very corner of the room. Stan had a big, empty place, which concerned me because diapers were a necessity for me. Maybe I could keep it from him and hope my bladder regains control faster the I expected. I had used the toilet once today and the rest was in my diaper. It's getting there, though.
We left his house and headed for Breaking Music to, among other things, get me a new guitar. I haven't played in a long time, so I hoped that it would come back to me with ease. I played almost everyday before I sold them, so I had a feeling it would. We arrived an hour before closing and were greeted by Steve and Jimmy. "Hey, it's the Abomination!" Steve said with glee.
"Hey, we're here to get Brian an axe." Stan pointed out.
"Alright, follow me." I followed Steve to the guitar corner of the store. On the wall, 20 guitars laid still, awaiting to be played. Stan went with Jimmy, following him to the back room and talking about something I couldn't quite make out. My attention was taken and redirected to Steve and his guitar expertise. "Alright, bro, what did you used play?" He ask inquisitively
"I used to play a Squire Strat and a Epiphone SG."
"Ah, dude, you will not find any of those cheap knock off's here. Here we have the real deal. We carry the big names: Gibson, Fender, Ibanez, PRS, even First Act."
"Wow, that’s a good selection."
"And if you can't find the one you like, we do orders."
"Really?"
"Yeah, but we've never had to, but the option is available."
"What kind of amps you carry?"
"Mostly Marshall, Mesa Boogie, and Peavey."
"Peavey? I've always wanted to try that."
"Yeah, it is bomb. Also, we got best strings for any hard rock player."
"Ernie Balls?"
"Yeah, but I use D'addario. They are really good strings."
"Really. I'll give those a try."
"I'll hook you up."
"Alright, let me see what you got as far as guitars."
"Well, try this." He handed me a red guitar is a black outline that faded into the color. It was a pretty body and the fret board was smooth and comfortable, which was one of my pet peeves when it came to guitars. "This is the Ibanez SA260FM. Thin body, flat back, and a wide range of uses. From Punk to Country, this is your guitar, trust me."
"Well, let me get an try it out, man."
"Alright, you said you wanted to try a Peavey, right?"
"Yeah." He walked away and came back, dragging an big amplifier behind him. He lets it rest in front of me and goes to plug it in. Me and my experiences with guitars leaves me well aware of how to set up an amp. I hook it all up and wait for the go ahead from Steve. "Alright, go for it." He shouts from across the room at the nearest outlet. I turned on the amp and waited for it warm up. I took one strum of the guitar and felt the vibration off the amp. The fret board was smooth and the sound was crunchy and distorted. Steve walked over, looking to see if I had made my decision. I played a few bar cords and then switched to soloing. The distortion was amazing, but not as hard as I wanted it to be. "What do you think?" Steve asked.
"It's alright, but I'm not quite sold on the sound."
"What do you want?"
"Something with a little more punch."
"Alright, I think we can handle that." He takes the guitar and walks over to the other corner. He lifts himself up and grasp a solid blue guitar. He carries to me, explaining it along the way. "This is a PRS McCartny II. It's got a solid sound and perfect for heavy rock. As for punk, I don't know. Maybe if you want a harder kind of punk rock, it might be good." I plugged it in and started strumming. My ears absorbed the sounds and began to analyze what it was doing. "Yeah, It's a little too metal." I said as I set it down.
"Yeah, I know. What kind of a sound are you going for?"
"Do you know bands like The Offspring, Lagwagon and A Wilhelm Scream?"
"A mix of those sounds?"
"Yeah."
"I think I got what you need." He walked in the other direction and pulled down a dark grey guitar. He spoke as he handed it to me. "This is an Ibanez RG, model number unknown."
"Whats in it?"
"Stock pick-ups, a floating bridge and I have no idea what kind of strings."
"Alright. Let's see." I plugged it in and strummed a chord. The sounds oscillating were perfect. The fret board was nice and comfortable for my fingers to move up and down on, which made going fast easy. I knew this one was it. "Dude, I am sold. This is perfect." I said with glee.
"I knew you'd like it. I have a sense about these things."
"That, or your just damn lucky all the time."
"Hey, somebody up there likes me."
"How much?"
"Well, the amp with the head will run you about $1000, but I can knock off a $100 if it helps."
"Really?"
"Yeah, it's not much, but hey, a little always helps."
"Thanks, what about the guitar?"
"$350."
"Okay, do you guys take checks?"
"Yeah, come on over and we'll ring you up." We walked over to the cash registered and he rung up the selection of stuff I needed to buy. "Alright, all together, we got $1454.62."
"Can I get some D'addario strings?"
"Yeah, sure." He grabs the strings and puts them on the pile. "You need a strap?"
"Oh shit, I forgot about that."
"Don't worry. How do you play?"
"Like right about here." My hands gestured where my guitar sits when I play. He took notice and reached under the counter. He pulled out a strap bundled by a string. On the strap was a weird pattern. "What is that?"
"It's a flying saucer."
"Cool."
"Alright, is that it?"
"For now, yeah"
"Alright, you new total is 1465.61." I filled the check and handed it to him. "You sure this wont bounce?"
"No, I got about $2000 in there." I reassured him.
"Really, that’s all?"
"Yeah, I have another $2500 in a savings account which I keep close by for emergency."
"Man, I wish my sister knew how to save money and organize like you. Course she has kids, so I thinks that's where it goes."
"Yeah."
"Need help with all of this?"
"Nah, Stan can help me." Just as I said that, Stan emerged, grinning and laughing along with Jimmy. "Ready to go?" He asked.
"Yeah, can you help me with my stuff?"
"Sure." We both carried to amp to his car and stuffed in into the back seat. Jimmy followed, carrying my guitar in his hands. "Thanks, Jimmy."
"No problem, bro."
"See ya, and remember to ask her." Stan shouted as he walked over to his side of the car.
"I will." He shouted back to him as Stan started up the car and pulled away.
"Ask who?" I asked.
"Jimmy has a cousin who plays bass and she might be available to join us."
"So, you are giving up on Adam?"
"Well, he wasn't really committed to this band to begin with. He saw it as a thing to do as he went through high school, and I figured he might be better off working with his dad."
"What else did you guys talk about?"
"Getting you a job. He said he as a buddy that's manager of a Hawthorne music store, and they are looking of new people. He thinks he can pull some strings to get you in there."
"Let's hope."
"So, what are we going to do tomorrow?"
"Let's take over the world."
"Haha."
I stood in front of her door, waiting for her to answer my knock. My apartment was locked and I had my key in my pocket, all ready to be taken by the landlord. Scuffling noise could be heard on the other side. I told Naomi the other day that I was leaving and going to Los Angeles. She was thrilled about me doing what I was doing, but Maya, shall we say, wasn't too happy about me leaving. She has come to like me. The door opened and Naomi stood, holding Maya's hand. "Well, all ready to go?" She said with a smile.
"Yeah, but I wanted to get in one last goodbye before I left."
"Please don't go." Maya cried as she released her mother's grip and hugged my leg.
"Hey, don't worry. This isn't goodbye forever. I'll come and visit."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Okay." She stepped back and re-gripped her mother's hand.
"You better keep you promise." Naomi said.
"I'll call you as soon as I get there. You'll have the address and know where exactly I am."
"Alright. I'm glad you're doing this."
"I am too."
"Okay. Well, I'll see you later."
"Same here."
"Bye."
"Bye."
"Bye-bye!" Maya shouted from the ground.
"Bye-bye, Maya." I rubbed her head as she laughed the perfect child's laugh. Naomi closed the door and I was ready to leave this place. It's been a long time coming, but it's finally time to bid this place farewell. It was a beautiful place to call home, but not at the time. Maybe in the future, I could call it that, but not now. I had a new home ahead of me.
Again, I hate long drives. They irritate the best of us sometimes. The most calm person in the world would not be able to survive in L.A. traffic. I, after longer then anticipated, finally made it to Stan's loft. It was on the second floor of a five story building. He told me he broke the news to his band that he was leaving to pursue greater projects, which was a downer for them because they were about to release their debut disc. I heard a little of it, and, to be completely honest, it sucks. The most modern, generic screamo punk I have ever heard. Sometimes I wonder what happened to the world we lived it, then I realize the problem: Me. I was letting it get to me, and that was the problem. If I didn't let it get to me, there would be no problem, so I rolled it off my shoulder and looked forward to the future. Standing outside, waiting for me, was Stan. I parked my car and he greeted me upon me exiting with a big grin. "What's up, man?", He said with great excitement. He stood in front of a large, dull looking building.
"Hell yeah. So this is paradise? Nice."
"You should see the inside."
"It's probably more empty then your locker in high school."
"Hey, who needed books?"
"You?"
"I wasn't that bad."
"You took Geometry twice."
"Geometry sucks."
"Touché."
"So, I think we have enough room to accommodate you?"
"You better." He grabbed some of my stuff and we marched up the stairs to his room. We walked down a long hall to the very end and Stan open the door. Upon entering, the vast emptiness was the first thing that caught my attention. "Shit, I was right."
"Shut up. I don't have very many luxuries, but at least I got a toilet and my drums." He pointed to his drum set, all set up in the corner.
"Sweet, got any new rhythms to show?"
"You have no idea, man. When I joined Anti-Static, I learned a whole bunch of different styles."
"Really?"
"Yeah, man."
"You still love punk rock, right?"
"Oh, hell yeah, man. I'd never give that up."
"Catch the new Pennywise?"
"Oh, it was incredible."
"I know you'd like it."
"But, you know, I've really been getting into this band called Strike Anywhere."
"Oh, yeah, I heard about them. They any good?"
"Pretty tight band."
"Cool."
"What have you been into?"
"Well, The Offspring, of course."
"Oh, their new disc was bomb."
"Oh yeah, it was. I've also been listening to a lot of A Wilhelm Scream."
"Oh, they are sick."
"I know."
"Hey, I was going to tell you that when I logged on our Myspace to show Jimmy and Steve our stuff, it had like 30 friend request."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. All built up in one year, without any promotion or solicitation."
"That's pretty impressive for a band that never played a gig outside their home town."
"Yeah."
"I haven't been on my Myspace page in two years."
"Really? Damn, that secluded?"
"Hey, I had to sell my laptop."
"Maybe you can get a new one."
"Maybe. We'll have to see how my job hunt goes down here."
"I could pull a few strings and get you a job at Breaking Music, or something like that."
"Thanks."
We spent the next hour unpacking, putting things into place. I had my mattress on the roof of my car, tried down like an escaped convict. I'm surprised it stayed on. We brought that up together and put it in the very corner of the room. Stan had a big, empty place, which concerned me because diapers were a necessity for me. Maybe I could keep it from him and hope my bladder regains control faster the I expected. I had used the toilet once today and the rest was in my diaper. It's getting there, though.
We left his house and headed for Breaking Music to, among other things, get me a new guitar. I haven't played in a long time, so I hoped that it would come back to me with ease. I played almost everyday before I sold them, so I had a feeling it would. We arrived an hour before closing and were greeted by Steve and Jimmy. "Hey, it's the Abomination!" Steve said with glee.
"Hey, we're here to get Brian an axe." Stan pointed out.
"Alright, follow me." I followed Steve to the guitar corner of the store. On the wall, 20 guitars laid still, awaiting to be played. Stan went with Jimmy, following him to the back room and talking about something I couldn't quite make out. My attention was taken and redirected to Steve and his guitar expertise. "Alright, bro, what did you used play?" He ask inquisitively
"I used to play a Squire Strat and a Epiphone SG."
"Ah, dude, you will not find any of those cheap knock off's here. Here we have the real deal. We carry the big names: Gibson, Fender, Ibanez, PRS, even First Act."
"Wow, that’s a good selection."
"And if you can't find the one you like, we do orders."
"Really?"
"Yeah, but we've never had to, but the option is available."
"What kind of amps you carry?"
"Mostly Marshall, Mesa Boogie, and Peavey."
"Peavey? I've always wanted to try that."
"Yeah, it is bomb. Also, we got best strings for any hard rock player."
"Ernie Balls?"
"Yeah, but I use D'addario. They are really good strings."
"Really. I'll give those a try."
"I'll hook you up."
"Alright, let me see what you got as far as guitars."
"Well, try this." He handed me a red guitar is a black outline that faded into the color. It was a pretty body and the fret board was smooth and comfortable, which was one of my pet peeves when it came to guitars. "This is the Ibanez SA260FM. Thin body, flat back, and a wide range of uses. From Punk to Country, this is your guitar, trust me."
"Well, let me get an try it out, man."
"Alright, you said you wanted to try a Peavey, right?"
"Yeah." He walked away and came back, dragging an big amplifier behind him. He lets it rest in front of me and goes to plug it in. Me and my experiences with guitars leaves me well aware of how to set up an amp. I hook it all up and wait for the go ahead from Steve. "Alright, go for it." He shouts from across the room at the nearest outlet. I turned on the amp and waited for it warm up. I took one strum of the guitar and felt the vibration off the amp. The fret board was smooth and the sound was crunchy and distorted. Steve walked over, looking to see if I had made my decision. I played a few bar cords and then switched to soloing. The distortion was amazing, but not as hard as I wanted it to be. "What do you think?" Steve asked.
"It's alright, but I'm not quite sold on the sound."
"What do you want?"
"Something with a little more punch."
"Alright, I think we can handle that." He takes the guitar and walks over to the other corner. He lifts himself up and grasp a solid blue guitar. He carries to me, explaining it along the way. "This is a PRS McCartny II. It's got a solid sound and perfect for heavy rock. As for punk, I don't know. Maybe if you want a harder kind of punk rock, it might be good." I plugged it in and started strumming. My ears absorbed the sounds and began to analyze what it was doing. "Yeah, It's a little too metal." I said as I set it down.
"Yeah, I know. What kind of a sound are you going for?"
"Do you know bands like The Offspring, Lagwagon and A Wilhelm Scream?"
"A mix of those sounds?"
"Yeah."
"I think I got what you need." He walked in the other direction and pulled down a dark grey guitar. He spoke as he handed it to me. "This is an Ibanez RG, model number unknown."
"Whats in it?"
"Stock pick-ups, a floating bridge and I have no idea what kind of strings."
"Alright. Let's see." I plugged it in and strummed a chord. The sounds oscillating were perfect. The fret board was nice and comfortable for my fingers to move up and down on, which made going fast easy. I knew this one was it. "Dude, I am sold. This is perfect." I said with glee.
"I knew you'd like it. I have a sense about these things."
"That, or your just damn lucky all the time."
"Hey, somebody up there likes me."
"How much?"
"Well, the amp with the head will run you about $1000, but I can knock off a $100 if it helps."
"Really?"
"Yeah, it's not much, but hey, a little always helps."
"Thanks, what about the guitar?"
"$350."
"Okay, do you guys take checks?"
"Yeah, come on over and we'll ring you up." We walked over to the cash registered and he rung up the selection of stuff I needed to buy. "Alright, all together, we got $1454.62."
"Can I get some D'addario strings?"
"Yeah, sure." He grabs the strings and puts them on the pile. "You need a strap?"
"Oh shit, I forgot about that."
"Don't worry. How do you play?"
"Like right about here." My hands gestured where my guitar sits when I play. He took notice and reached under the counter. He pulled out a strap bundled by a string. On the strap was a weird pattern. "What is that?"
"It's a flying saucer."
"Cool."
"Alright, is that it?"
"For now, yeah"
"Alright, you new total is 1465.61." I filled the check and handed it to him. "You sure this wont bounce?"
"No, I got about $2000 in there." I reassured him.
"Really, that’s all?"
"Yeah, I have another $2500 in a savings account which I keep close by for emergency."
"Man, I wish my sister knew how to save money and organize like you. Course she has kids, so I thinks that's where it goes."
"Yeah."
"Need help with all of this?"
"Nah, Stan can help me." Just as I said that, Stan emerged, grinning and laughing along with Jimmy. "Ready to go?" He asked.
"Yeah, can you help me with my stuff?"
"Sure." We both carried to amp to his car and stuffed in into the back seat. Jimmy followed, carrying my guitar in his hands. "Thanks, Jimmy."
"No problem, bro."
"See ya, and remember to ask her." Stan shouted as he walked over to his side of the car.
"I will." He shouted back to him as Stan started up the car and pulled away.
"Ask who?" I asked.
"Jimmy has a cousin who plays bass and she might be available to join us."
"So, you are giving up on Adam?"
"Well, he wasn't really committed to this band to begin with. He saw it as a thing to do as he went through high school, and I figured he might be better off working with his dad."
"What else did you guys talk about?"
"Getting you a job. He said he as a buddy that's manager of a Hawthorne music store, and they are looking of new people. He thinks he can pull some strings to get you in there."
"Let's hope."
"So, what are we going to do tomorrow?"
"Let's take over the world."
"Haha."
Going Nowhere, Chapter Twelve: Return of the Abomination!
It was 3:45 in the afternoon and I had just got off work. I told my boss I wouldn't be in tomorrow or the next day. He took it with a grain of salt, but he took it nonetheless. My hand grasped the phone as I flipped through my book of phone numbers. I was fully dressed and had $200 in my pocket and more in my bank account. I was going to get to Stan and get our band back together if it means me giving up everything I have made for myself. I didn't want it so it would be easy to do so. I never wanted it. I wanted to be in a band with my best friend, playing the music that I loved. This life I built is just my self-pity in material form. I hated it.
I didn't know where to start, so I just tried Stan's cell number. I dialed it and waited as it rang in my ear. A click emerged with a female voice. "Hello?"
"Hey, it Stan Kiowa there?"
"No, there is no one by that name here."
"Okay, thank you." He must have changed his cell number or something. Nothing big. I thought about where to go next. My mind thought of his parents. They must know where he is. I quickly dialed his old home phone. It rang for several time and then a click sounded. "Hello?" And older women answered.
"Hi, Mrs. Kiowa?"
"Yes, this is she."
"Hi, this is Brian Sanderson. I'm friends with Stan."
"Oh, I remember you. How are you? Where have you been?"
"I'm fine. I need to know where Stan is?"
"Well, after you all left him in Fresno, he came home for a while, then left for Los Angeles about two years ago."
"Do you have his address? or a phone number?"
"I'm afraid not. He doesn't call much. He's been really busy with something. I don't know what, though."
"Okay, do you know where I could find him?"
"Maybe at this address."
"Okay, tell me." She gave me the address of some kind of music shop in Los Angeles. She thinks he might work there, or someone might know him there. I jotted it down and stuffed the address into my pocket. I grabbed an old backpack I used for school and put some clothes and a few diapers in there for later use. The strap rested on my shoulder and I was out the door, leaving my home behind for a short while. I walked down to my car, started up the engine and drove to the nearest gas station. She was almost empty, but I spent $30 to fill her up. When the pump stopped fueling and the gauge read the amount spent, which was the full $30, I giggled the few remaining drops and was on my way to Los Angeles.
The ride was a long one. L.A. traffic is always bad from what I hear in the media. Of course, I don't really believe much is what the media tells me anymore. After 7 hours in the into the night life of Los Angeles, I believed. I was on my guard. The stuff I do hear about LA, while I don't believe it much, is the only thing I have to base my experience off of. I drove around, looking at the streets. I finally found the right one and turned on it. I wasn't looking for address, but the name of the music store, which was called "Breaking Music Shop". I looked all around and finally found the right place. It was a large store filled with random musical instruments, mostly drums and guitars. I parked my car and got out in front of the lit store. There were few people inside, talking and playing music. My hand grasped the door handle, looking inside for anyone that would resemble Stan. The few people who were in there failed to notice my entrance and continued with there conversations. I walked up to the cash register, which was being manned by a long haired, neo hippie of some sort. He was off into his magazine, only taking notice of me when I approached the counter. "You buying anything, dude?"
"No, I'm looking a friend of mine."
"Who might that be?"
"Stan Kiowa?"
"Oh, He's not in right now. I think he's at a show. Wait one second." He backed into his chair slowly and yelled into a room that was separated from this room by beads, "Hey, Jimmy!".
"What?", Jimmy's response sounded aggravated
"Where's Stan?"
"I think his at the Whisky."
"Yeah, try the Whisky a Go Go. I think he has a gig there with his band."
"Jesus, he in a band already."
"Yeah, but they suck. They are called Anti-Static. They are like Screamo, Metal crap. Much credit goes out to Stan for putting up with the other guys, but he is the only good thing about that band."
"Yeah, sounds like Stan."
"His stuff with his old band, Abomination, was pretty tight. I told him to get his old singer back, but he said he split to live a new life in Fresno."
"Yeah, I know about that."
"It was cool, too, because he had this sick voice that was like Scott Weiland, and they had this one song with this awesome guitar lick and a crazy solo that sounded like Black Flag meets Rage Against the Machine. Crazy shit, man" He raved in a very mellow attitude, showing his control over his enthusiasm. He put his magazine down and licked his lips. "So, how do you know Stan?"
"You know that singer you're talking about?"
"Yeah?"
"That’s me."
"Oh, shit, really!?" His expression went from mellow to frantic. His body jumped out of the chair and poked it's head through beads, "Jimmy!"
"What?" Jimmy shouted back.
"Get out here!"
"Why?" The guy returned his attention to me. "Jimmy loves your guys stuff.", He tells me. A man, bald by his on terms, comes out. He looks to be about 25, 26 almost. His thick glasses and pale skin that reminded me of some techno guy that has his music in all the media. His attention is fixated on his friend, who has a large grin on his face. "Dude, Stan's old singer from Abomination."
"Oh, shit, really?" He said with a slightly less enthusiastic expression, but enthusiastic enough. "Dude, are you for real?" He asked me.
"Yeah, Brian Sanderson." I stated while I extended my hand. He gladly took it and shook it as if he was meeting a star. His eyes were wild with excitement. "Dude, your shit that you recorded rocks, man. That was epic punk rock." He said.
"Thanks, man."
"Dude, if you guys stayed together, you could of done something with that stuff."
"Yeah, well our bass player left us and without him, we couldn't pay the rent. So, I left to pursue college, but I'm done for now."
"Why you looking for Stan?"
"Well, I'm trying to get the band back together, but it sounds like he is already doing something else."
"Naw, do it. That shit he is doing is fucking making him miserable. You and you alone can save him."
"Dude, you sound like I'm sort of epic messiah."
"Well, Stan wishes you never left. He knew that all your creative juices was what fueled your band."
"Like Plutonium to the Time Machine, man." The other guy points out.
"Come on, I'll drive you." He guides me outside to his car. Jimmy, the other guy, whose name is Steve, and I pile into this little car. The ignition turns and starts up the car. It moves fast down the street. The speed we are driving at was definitely not the designated speed limit, from what I can tell. I poked my head from the back seat and saw the two were not really pay much attention to the road as they were their music, which, I have to admit, was pretty awesome. "Hey, guys.", I spoke, "I don't know if Los Angeles is special from other places in California, but I'm sure there is a set speed limit."
"Oh, don't worry, man. My brother's a cop."
"That's not what worries me." I was more worried about getting hit and dying. They took many twist and turns to get to the Whisky, but we made it there in one piece. I got out of the car and was glad I was wearing a diaper at the time. The other two guys got out and joined me on the curb in front of the Whisky. The commotion on the inside was bleeding into the street, but was not audible. I felt Steve's hand touch my shoulder. I turned to him as his index finger pointed straight ahead of us. "There he is." I could see four guys packing away there equipment. While three of the guys wore unfamiliar, yet strangely enough similar faces and clothes, one of them stuck out like a sore thumb. His hair was longer, but his distant expression was extremely recognizable. I started to walk towards them and called out his name. "Stan!" His face looked up and turned in directions the voice was not coming from. "Stan!" I said again as his head adjusted in the right direction. His eye squinted and his blank, tired face grew a smile. He started walking over to me and we met half-way. Our hands slapped together and we did a semi-bro hung. "Dude, I can't believe you’re here." He said in his unmistakable voice.
"How is going, man?"
"Great, dude."
"Listen, I want to say I'm sorry for leaving you behind all those years again."
"Hey, I'm sorry for pressuring you." We stared at each other as a moment of silence came between us. "I really came down here to ask you," For some reason, this was hard to say, "if you wanted to get the band back together."
"Are you serious?"
"Dead serious."
"Yes!" He jumped up in joy. "Hell fucking yeah!"
We drove to the nearby diner to get something to eat. Jimmy and Steve, in all the excitement, left there store unattended to and went back to make sure none of their stuff was stolen. Stan told his band he was going to talk to them tomorrow about leaving, but tonight he wanted to catch up with me. We sat down in the far corner of the restaurant and ordered our food as Stan told the story of his life after the band. "After you and Adam left, I thought about trying to convince you guys to return. I thought if I had Adam on board, I would be able to convince you to come back, so I bugged him for a while. He eventually told me straight forward that he was going back home and working for his dad. I knew he was out permanently, because you know Adam: once he makes up his mind, it's set. So, I went back home and stayed at my parents for about a year, working at Jack in the Box."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, remember Dan?"
"Yeah." Dan was the guy who told us about going to the SoCal the night after the talent show.
"Well, his band went to L.A. for a while, but broke up because Kevin wanted to become doctor, Jack wanted to do my stuff like Paramore, and Bobby just wanted to go home. So, he came home six months before me and got a job at Jack in the Box. He got promoted to manager and got me a job when I went back home. I saved up all my cash and got a loft here. As for a job, Dan had a brother who was friends with a roadie for Bad Religion, and the lead singer had a buddy who has a cousin here who owned Breaking Music. So, I got a job here. After a month of settling down, I joined Anti-Static. I needed to do something, and they were signed and I got paid for drumming."
"Wow."
"Yeah, but I would love to leave."
"I've heard."
"So what happened to you?"
"I, by the grace of god, got a small apartment near Cal State Fresno. My part time job wasn't going to cut it in the long run, so I sold my guitars for $600, my amp for $250, and my laptop for $150. What sucks was I got a raise after about three months."
"Ouch."
"Yeah, so I just sat around my apartment doing nothing and went to school. I got my Associates and Bachelors degree in Liberal Arts"
"Wow, that fast?"
"Yeah, well instead of taking the traditional four classes a semester, I took five, and I also did Summer and Winter Sessions because I had nothing better to do."
"Jesus, you were always good at school, for two degrees in four years. Damn."
"Yeah, I know. Anyway, I was thinking of going back for my Masters, but I decided to get the band back together."
"Why?"
"I thought for a long time about what I really wanted to do with my life, and I decided music was the only thing I could do."
"So, what do you want to do from here?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you want to move into my loft? There is enough room."
"You serious?"
"Yeah, I could get you a job or something. We could find a bass player and just play until we get a gig. I got a name in this town, so it will be easier."
"That sounds like a good idea."
"Alright!"
"I got to go back, tell my boss that I quit, grab some stuff and say goodbye to a few people."
"Okay. It's settle. Abomination is back!"
I didn't know where to start, so I just tried Stan's cell number. I dialed it and waited as it rang in my ear. A click emerged with a female voice. "Hello?"
"Hey, it Stan Kiowa there?"
"No, there is no one by that name here."
"Okay, thank you." He must have changed his cell number or something. Nothing big. I thought about where to go next. My mind thought of his parents. They must know where he is. I quickly dialed his old home phone. It rang for several time and then a click sounded. "Hello?" And older women answered.
"Hi, Mrs. Kiowa?"
"Yes, this is she."
"Hi, this is Brian Sanderson. I'm friends with Stan."
"Oh, I remember you. How are you? Where have you been?"
"I'm fine. I need to know where Stan is?"
"Well, after you all left him in Fresno, he came home for a while, then left for Los Angeles about two years ago."
"Do you have his address? or a phone number?"
"I'm afraid not. He doesn't call much. He's been really busy with something. I don't know what, though."
"Okay, do you know where I could find him?"
"Maybe at this address."
"Okay, tell me." She gave me the address of some kind of music shop in Los Angeles. She thinks he might work there, or someone might know him there. I jotted it down and stuffed the address into my pocket. I grabbed an old backpack I used for school and put some clothes and a few diapers in there for later use. The strap rested on my shoulder and I was out the door, leaving my home behind for a short while. I walked down to my car, started up the engine and drove to the nearest gas station. She was almost empty, but I spent $30 to fill her up. When the pump stopped fueling and the gauge read the amount spent, which was the full $30, I giggled the few remaining drops and was on my way to Los Angeles.
The ride was a long one. L.A. traffic is always bad from what I hear in the media. Of course, I don't really believe much is what the media tells me anymore. After 7 hours in the into the night life of Los Angeles, I believed. I was on my guard. The stuff I do hear about LA, while I don't believe it much, is the only thing I have to base my experience off of. I drove around, looking at the streets. I finally found the right one and turned on it. I wasn't looking for address, but the name of the music store, which was called "Breaking Music Shop". I looked all around and finally found the right place. It was a large store filled with random musical instruments, mostly drums and guitars. I parked my car and got out in front of the lit store. There were few people inside, talking and playing music. My hand grasped the door handle, looking inside for anyone that would resemble Stan. The few people who were in there failed to notice my entrance and continued with there conversations. I walked up to the cash register, which was being manned by a long haired, neo hippie of some sort. He was off into his magazine, only taking notice of me when I approached the counter. "You buying anything, dude?"
"No, I'm looking a friend of mine."
"Who might that be?"
"Stan Kiowa?"
"Oh, He's not in right now. I think he's at a show. Wait one second." He backed into his chair slowly and yelled into a room that was separated from this room by beads, "Hey, Jimmy!".
"What?", Jimmy's response sounded aggravated
"Where's Stan?"
"I think his at the Whisky."
"Yeah, try the Whisky a Go Go. I think he has a gig there with his band."
"Jesus, he in a band already."
"Yeah, but they suck. They are called Anti-Static. They are like Screamo, Metal crap. Much credit goes out to Stan for putting up with the other guys, but he is the only good thing about that band."
"Yeah, sounds like Stan."
"His stuff with his old band, Abomination, was pretty tight. I told him to get his old singer back, but he said he split to live a new life in Fresno."
"Yeah, I know about that."
"It was cool, too, because he had this sick voice that was like Scott Weiland, and they had this one song with this awesome guitar lick and a crazy solo that sounded like Black Flag meets Rage Against the Machine. Crazy shit, man" He raved in a very mellow attitude, showing his control over his enthusiasm. He put his magazine down and licked his lips. "So, how do you know Stan?"
"You know that singer you're talking about?"
"Yeah?"
"That’s me."
"Oh, shit, really!?" His expression went from mellow to frantic. His body jumped out of the chair and poked it's head through beads, "Jimmy!"
"What?" Jimmy shouted back.
"Get out here!"
"Why?" The guy returned his attention to me. "Jimmy loves your guys stuff.", He tells me. A man, bald by his on terms, comes out. He looks to be about 25, 26 almost. His thick glasses and pale skin that reminded me of some techno guy that has his music in all the media. His attention is fixated on his friend, who has a large grin on his face. "Dude, Stan's old singer from Abomination."
"Oh, shit, really?" He said with a slightly less enthusiastic expression, but enthusiastic enough. "Dude, are you for real?" He asked me.
"Yeah, Brian Sanderson." I stated while I extended my hand. He gladly took it and shook it as if he was meeting a star. His eyes were wild with excitement. "Dude, your shit that you recorded rocks, man. That was epic punk rock." He said.
"Thanks, man."
"Dude, if you guys stayed together, you could of done something with that stuff."
"Yeah, well our bass player left us and without him, we couldn't pay the rent. So, I left to pursue college, but I'm done for now."
"Why you looking for Stan?"
"Well, I'm trying to get the band back together, but it sounds like he is already doing something else."
"Naw, do it. That shit he is doing is fucking making him miserable. You and you alone can save him."
"Dude, you sound like I'm sort of epic messiah."
"Well, Stan wishes you never left. He knew that all your creative juices was what fueled your band."
"Like Plutonium to the Time Machine, man." The other guy points out.
"Come on, I'll drive you." He guides me outside to his car. Jimmy, the other guy, whose name is Steve, and I pile into this little car. The ignition turns and starts up the car. It moves fast down the street. The speed we are driving at was definitely not the designated speed limit, from what I can tell. I poked my head from the back seat and saw the two were not really pay much attention to the road as they were their music, which, I have to admit, was pretty awesome. "Hey, guys.", I spoke, "I don't know if Los Angeles is special from other places in California, but I'm sure there is a set speed limit."
"Oh, don't worry, man. My brother's a cop."
"That's not what worries me." I was more worried about getting hit and dying. They took many twist and turns to get to the Whisky, but we made it there in one piece. I got out of the car and was glad I was wearing a diaper at the time. The other two guys got out and joined me on the curb in front of the Whisky. The commotion on the inside was bleeding into the street, but was not audible. I felt Steve's hand touch my shoulder. I turned to him as his index finger pointed straight ahead of us. "There he is." I could see four guys packing away there equipment. While three of the guys wore unfamiliar, yet strangely enough similar faces and clothes, one of them stuck out like a sore thumb. His hair was longer, but his distant expression was extremely recognizable. I started to walk towards them and called out his name. "Stan!" His face looked up and turned in directions the voice was not coming from. "Stan!" I said again as his head adjusted in the right direction. His eye squinted and his blank, tired face grew a smile. He started walking over to me and we met half-way. Our hands slapped together and we did a semi-bro hung. "Dude, I can't believe you’re here." He said in his unmistakable voice.
"How is going, man?"
"Great, dude."
"Listen, I want to say I'm sorry for leaving you behind all those years again."
"Hey, I'm sorry for pressuring you." We stared at each other as a moment of silence came between us. "I really came down here to ask you," For some reason, this was hard to say, "if you wanted to get the band back together."
"Are you serious?"
"Dead serious."
"Yes!" He jumped up in joy. "Hell fucking yeah!"
We drove to the nearby diner to get something to eat. Jimmy and Steve, in all the excitement, left there store unattended to and went back to make sure none of their stuff was stolen. Stan told his band he was going to talk to them tomorrow about leaving, but tonight he wanted to catch up with me. We sat down in the far corner of the restaurant and ordered our food as Stan told the story of his life after the band. "After you and Adam left, I thought about trying to convince you guys to return. I thought if I had Adam on board, I would be able to convince you to come back, so I bugged him for a while. He eventually told me straight forward that he was going back home and working for his dad. I knew he was out permanently, because you know Adam: once he makes up his mind, it's set. So, I went back home and stayed at my parents for about a year, working at Jack in the Box."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, remember Dan?"
"Yeah." Dan was the guy who told us about going to the SoCal the night after the talent show.
"Well, his band went to L.A. for a while, but broke up because Kevin wanted to become doctor, Jack wanted to do my stuff like Paramore, and Bobby just wanted to go home. So, he came home six months before me and got a job at Jack in the Box. He got promoted to manager and got me a job when I went back home. I saved up all my cash and got a loft here. As for a job, Dan had a brother who was friends with a roadie for Bad Religion, and the lead singer had a buddy who has a cousin here who owned Breaking Music. So, I got a job here. After a month of settling down, I joined Anti-Static. I needed to do something, and they were signed and I got paid for drumming."
"Wow."
"Yeah, but I would love to leave."
"I've heard."
"So what happened to you?"
"I, by the grace of god, got a small apartment near Cal State Fresno. My part time job wasn't going to cut it in the long run, so I sold my guitars for $600, my amp for $250, and my laptop for $150. What sucks was I got a raise after about three months."
"Ouch."
"Yeah, so I just sat around my apartment doing nothing and went to school. I got my Associates and Bachelors degree in Liberal Arts"
"Wow, that fast?"
"Yeah, well instead of taking the traditional four classes a semester, I took five, and I also did Summer and Winter Sessions because I had nothing better to do."
"Jesus, you were always good at school, for two degrees in four years. Damn."
"Yeah, I know. Anyway, I was thinking of going back for my Masters, but I decided to get the band back together."
"Why?"
"I thought for a long time about what I really wanted to do with my life, and I decided music was the only thing I could do."
"So, what do you want to do from here?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you want to move into my loft? There is enough room."
"You serious?"
"Yeah, I could get you a job or something. We could find a bass player and just play until we get a gig. I got a name in this town, so it will be easier."
"That sounds like a good idea."
"Alright!"
"I got to go back, tell my boss that I quit, grab some stuff and say goodbye to a few people."
"Okay. It's settle. Abomination is back!"
Going Nowhere, Chapter Eleven: Revelations
This was weird. This room seems so familiar, but I can't place what it is. It was a strange feeling too, like I was scared for some reason. I looked to my left and saw an orange sink and a cache of book case, all of which had their backs to each other facing the walls. Decorations of fishes and other assorted animals graced the walls of this room and on the floor laid a checkered mat in front of an old chalkboard.
I then realized I was in my kindergarten class room. It was more animated then I remembered, almost like something out of Tim Burton film. Above the sink, the windows were clear and showed an array of different flouting dark colors that were in place of the playground that used to be there in my view. The colors moved so fast, it was almost nauseating. The bookshelves were empty with the exception of one book. It laid flat on it's side and was cover in dust, almost like it hasn't been touched for decades. I grasped it in my hands, feeling the dust grind against my fingers, and blow away the build up. The cover was a dark shade of blue and held a picture of a boy that was too fuzzy to make out.
I walked through the vacant room and heard the sound of someone crying. It was a child, what sounded like a little boy. The weeping was muffled, but loud and audible. I looked beyond the bookshelves and saw a little child crying in the corner, next to the bathroom. His face was covered, blocking it from the world. His hair was dark and scuffed. His knees were to his chest, showing a large cut against his left leg. It looked like he fell.
"Hello?" I said in a calm, assuring voice. The boy didn't look up. I walked closer to him and spoke louder. "Hello?", I said. Again, he made no movements, but kept crying. I was now in front of him. My body knelt down as I put my hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay, kid." My voice was as soft and reassuring as it could get. Suddenly, his face popped up. The tears that laid upon this face were mine. The face was mine. "Please stop laughing at me." He said to me. His voice sounded as if he was crying for ages. From behind me, a little girl began to laugh. I turned to see a small brunette laughing at the crying boy. "Ha ha, little cry baby!" Her face was smug and pale. "Ha ha ha ha", She ranted him. I was confused as what to say to this bossy, little devil child. Finally, I had enough. "Leave him alone!" I said with a fierce anger about my voice. The little girl turn to me with an upset expression, as if she was rudely interrupted while doing something important. "Look, it's an even bigger baby!" She said with a growl.
"Who do you think you are?"
"Who do you think you are, you big baby?"
"I'M NOT A BABY! STOP SAYING THAT!" I shouted.
"Then why are you wearing a diaper?" My head looked down to show I had no clothes on anymore. My body was naked with exception of a white, fluffy disposable diaper. In my mouth was a pacifier that wasn't there before. I looked up at little girl, who was now pointing and laughing even harder. "Big baby, big baby!" She said in a chanting voice. "Stop it!" I commanded, still sucking on the pacifier.
"Big baby, big baby!"
"Please stop.", I cried as I grew into tears.
"You're just a big baby!"
"Leave him alone." A voice came out from behind her. A woman, standing shorter then me, came by my side. She had red hair and lovely blue eyes that were covered by glasses. "Go away and never come back." She commanded in a stern voice. The little girl slowly vanished into the air as did the younger version of me. The wall and everything in the room then began to melt. Everything was becoming goopy and sliding off the wall, like ice in the hot sun. The red haired women took my hand and guided my to the door, which was the only thing not melting. She opened the door and it led into a solid white room. Behind me the door closed and disappeared. In this room was a white crib and a rocking chair. They were much larger then unusual. Much larger, indeed. I turned to the red haired woman, who was now a giant, standing four times my size. "Come here, my little baby." She said as her soft hands came under my arms. She lifted me up with ease and held me close to her bosom. She cradle me in her arms and sat in the rocking chair, singing soft lullabies to me. The sound of her voice slowly faded and turned into a choir of angels, singing to me. The light grow brighter and more difficult to look at. My eyes closed and I was let myself go limp in her arms. Back and forth, she rocked me. All the stress of the outside world slowly melted with that room now that she was here. Nothing was coming for us or expecting us. No one even cared. It was just me and her, whoever she was. I started to fall asleep and the choir of angels started to fade with laid there, sucking on my pacifier. Nothing mattered anymore. The sense of comfort dominated over all feelings and thoughts. I didn't care anymore.
Suddenly, the warmth of the room go cold. My eyes opened to see the room went black with darkness. The woman was holding on to me for dear life, but something was pulling on me down. She cried when her grip finally lost control and I was falling into the darkness. "No!", she yelled as I fell down into nothing. I was free falling through darkness and realized I was no longer in a diaper and sucking on a pacifier. I was in my normal street clothes. I felt the wind pass by my ears as it drowned out the woman's cries. I kept falling and I couldn't see bottom. It just saw darkness. I couldn't even see the woman anymore, whoever she was.
Finally, I hit bottom, but I didn't feel any pain. It was, instead, a strange tingly sensation in my arms. They went away when I moved my arms, but when they stood still, the tingly sensation returned. It wasn't a matter of how much it hurt, but how annoying it was. I looked around and saw nothing but blackness. "Hello?" I shouted. The echo of my voice reverberant and nothing moved. Suddenly, a light came on and surrounded me, like a spotlight. I looked up and saw nothing but a bright light. My eye closed themselves and I opened them to see a large, golden gate. My clothes, yet again, changed. I was now in some kind of 18th century peasant clothes. It was strange, but I didn't stop to take it all in. It walked over to the gate and opened it to reveal a long, blue road, laced with bushes and trees. It looked like a rejected version of Alice and Wonderland. I started walking and realized that my arms still hurt. I moved them to keep the pain away, put they got tired quickly. "Need help?" A voice called out. I looked up into the trees to see an Asian man wearing peasant clothes much like mine and a boulder hat. In his hands he held a drum and a pair of drum sticks. I stared at his face and realized who it was. "Stan?"
"Hello, Brian. Miss me?"
"What are you doing here?"
"I don't know, it's you dream."
"I'm dreaming?"
"Can you think of any other possible explanation to why you are seeing all this crazy shit?"
"Good point."
"Do you need help?"
"My arms are hurting."
"Is that why you are shaking them?"
"Moving them makes the pain go away."
"How about this?" He jumped down from the tree and reached into a nearby bush. He pulled out an acoustic guitar. It was ratty and old, but looked sturdy. "Here." He handed it to me. I held the guitar and pulled the strap over my head. My fingers formed a chord and I began to strum. The pain disappeared almost instantly. I watched as Stan pulled his drum strap tight and began hitting along with my guitar strumming. It was almost like we were one with our playing. We moved along the blue path, playing our music for whatever ears that hid in the trees and bushes. We marched and played like never before. My smile grew larger with every strum and every beat. Our actions were in unison and our minds were combined as every note and hit came to us together. We were one as we were before. Friends again.
Ahead in the path a figure formed. Two to be exact. A person, most likely a female, was sitting next to a large brown object. As were grew closer, the image came into focus. She was wearing an old, tattered dress and had dirty, blonde hair. Her face looked as she hadn't washed in weeks. We marched next to her and she finally took notice of our presence, looking up at us with her scorn eyes. "Hello." I said to her unknown face.
"Hello, who are you?" She replied.
"I'm Brian and this is Stan. Who are you?"
"I don't have a name."
"No name?"
"No. I think I lost it."
"What do you have?"
"I have this." She put her hand on the object, which was a large upright bass.
"Would you like to play with us?" Stan asked
"Sure." She stood up and picked up her bass. Without even counting, we all started playing together. Though no one was around to hear the music being played, we could hear it, and that was fine. Stan's drumming laid the foundation for which my guitar would follow. The unnamed girl bobbed and weaved with her bass, creating a seductive sound for the world that wasn't listening, and we didn't care. Our music was making us feel complete and whole and we didn't care what the world thought.
Our music was interrupted by clouds. They began to form and swelled over the sky, taking away all sun's light. Rain came down as we scattered to cover. Finding none, we continued to run along the path, finding nothing but open trees. The storm got worse as we ran, pouring down harder and harder. All hope for a dry place to get under seemed dim like the sky, but we soon find something. A ramshackle, old house with a lit illuminating from the open window. We collectively saw it and charged for it's door, hoping we could stay inside. The door was closer and closer to our grasp. We could almost taste the warmth. Finally, the doorknob was in my hand. It turned with my hand and opened the door, revealing a bright light. It was so bright, I couldn't see. My hands covered my eyes as they closed themselves instinctively. Darkness behind my eyelids cushioned my eyes from the harmful light, but soon open again. I stared at the light peeking through the window. My head laid back against the pillow and adjusted to my dark room. My body jerked up out of the bed with a cold sweat all over me. The light poked through the window next to my bed onto where my face was laying. I looked at my arm. It had marks on it, most likely from me sleeping on it. I looked around my room with the mindset that I've never been here before. It was all so strange and unfamiliar, but slowly I remembered that I lived here. All the previous events in my life came back and I knew everything I needed to know. With this sudden realization of my current situation, I uttered the only words I could say, "That was the trippiest dream I have ever had.".
I got out of bed and changed my diaper. It was soaked to the point where you couldn't even see any white on it. I didn't even want to use wipes. I went straight for the shower, cleaning all over my body like it was a long time since I did it. I felt dirty for some reason, like I was uncomfortable in my own skin. It was definitely a strange feeling, but I shrugged it off. I dried my body off and diapered myself, taking it slow because I felt like it.
I walked over to my couch and planted my freshly diapered behind onto the couch. My hand searched for the remote to my side. I felt the cold plastic of the old remote as I grasped it and turned on the television. My mind, in this situation, quickly analyzed my dream. The kindergarten part was nothing new. I've had this dream before, but what came after was completely new. The red haired girl was the girl from my Diaper Buddies website. She was the one my mind was obsessed over for a long time. The part of her caressing my like a baby was certainly bizarre, as I have never had a fantasy or dream like that before. The most interesting part, however, was Stan. Why did I dream of Stan? Is that important to me. Of course, he's my best friend. I left him when we needed each other, now I want to make things alright. I think this was my subconscious trying to tell me something. I need to call Stan and get this band back together. This was what I wanted. I needed this. This was what the dream meant. I need to do this because it is the only thing I know how to do.
I then realized I was in my kindergarten class room. It was more animated then I remembered, almost like something out of Tim Burton film. Above the sink, the windows were clear and showed an array of different flouting dark colors that were in place of the playground that used to be there in my view. The colors moved so fast, it was almost nauseating. The bookshelves were empty with the exception of one book. It laid flat on it's side and was cover in dust, almost like it hasn't been touched for decades. I grasped it in my hands, feeling the dust grind against my fingers, and blow away the build up. The cover was a dark shade of blue and held a picture of a boy that was too fuzzy to make out.
I walked through the vacant room and heard the sound of someone crying. It was a child, what sounded like a little boy. The weeping was muffled, but loud and audible. I looked beyond the bookshelves and saw a little child crying in the corner, next to the bathroom. His face was covered, blocking it from the world. His hair was dark and scuffed. His knees were to his chest, showing a large cut against his left leg. It looked like he fell.
"Hello?" I said in a calm, assuring voice. The boy didn't look up. I walked closer to him and spoke louder. "Hello?", I said. Again, he made no movements, but kept crying. I was now in front of him. My body knelt down as I put my hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay, kid." My voice was as soft and reassuring as it could get. Suddenly, his face popped up. The tears that laid upon this face were mine. The face was mine. "Please stop laughing at me." He said to me. His voice sounded as if he was crying for ages. From behind me, a little girl began to laugh. I turned to see a small brunette laughing at the crying boy. "Ha ha, little cry baby!" Her face was smug and pale. "Ha ha ha ha", She ranted him. I was confused as what to say to this bossy, little devil child. Finally, I had enough. "Leave him alone!" I said with a fierce anger about my voice. The little girl turn to me with an upset expression, as if she was rudely interrupted while doing something important. "Look, it's an even bigger baby!" She said with a growl.
"Who do you think you are?"
"Who do you think you are, you big baby?"
"I'M NOT A BABY! STOP SAYING THAT!" I shouted.
"Then why are you wearing a diaper?" My head looked down to show I had no clothes on anymore. My body was naked with exception of a white, fluffy disposable diaper. In my mouth was a pacifier that wasn't there before. I looked up at little girl, who was now pointing and laughing even harder. "Big baby, big baby!" She said in a chanting voice. "Stop it!" I commanded, still sucking on the pacifier.
"Big baby, big baby!"
"Please stop.", I cried as I grew into tears.
"You're just a big baby!"
"Leave him alone." A voice came out from behind her. A woman, standing shorter then me, came by my side. She had red hair and lovely blue eyes that were covered by glasses. "Go away and never come back." She commanded in a stern voice. The little girl slowly vanished into the air as did the younger version of me. The wall and everything in the room then began to melt. Everything was becoming goopy and sliding off the wall, like ice in the hot sun. The red haired women took my hand and guided my to the door, which was the only thing not melting. She opened the door and it led into a solid white room. Behind me the door closed and disappeared. In this room was a white crib and a rocking chair. They were much larger then unusual. Much larger, indeed. I turned to the red haired woman, who was now a giant, standing four times my size. "Come here, my little baby." She said as her soft hands came under my arms. She lifted me up with ease and held me close to her bosom. She cradle me in her arms and sat in the rocking chair, singing soft lullabies to me. The sound of her voice slowly faded and turned into a choir of angels, singing to me. The light grow brighter and more difficult to look at. My eyes closed and I was let myself go limp in her arms. Back and forth, she rocked me. All the stress of the outside world slowly melted with that room now that she was here. Nothing was coming for us or expecting us. No one even cared. It was just me and her, whoever she was. I started to fall asleep and the choir of angels started to fade with laid there, sucking on my pacifier. Nothing mattered anymore. The sense of comfort dominated over all feelings and thoughts. I didn't care anymore.
Suddenly, the warmth of the room go cold. My eyes opened to see the room went black with darkness. The woman was holding on to me for dear life, but something was pulling on me down. She cried when her grip finally lost control and I was falling into the darkness. "No!", she yelled as I fell down into nothing. I was free falling through darkness and realized I was no longer in a diaper and sucking on a pacifier. I was in my normal street clothes. I felt the wind pass by my ears as it drowned out the woman's cries. I kept falling and I couldn't see bottom. It just saw darkness. I couldn't even see the woman anymore, whoever she was.
Finally, I hit bottom, but I didn't feel any pain. It was, instead, a strange tingly sensation in my arms. They went away when I moved my arms, but when they stood still, the tingly sensation returned. It wasn't a matter of how much it hurt, but how annoying it was. I looked around and saw nothing but blackness. "Hello?" I shouted. The echo of my voice reverberant and nothing moved. Suddenly, a light came on and surrounded me, like a spotlight. I looked up and saw nothing but a bright light. My eye closed themselves and I opened them to see a large, golden gate. My clothes, yet again, changed. I was now in some kind of 18th century peasant clothes. It was strange, but I didn't stop to take it all in. It walked over to the gate and opened it to reveal a long, blue road, laced with bushes and trees. It looked like a rejected version of Alice and Wonderland. I started walking and realized that my arms still hurt. I moved them to keep the pain away, put they got tired quickly. "Need help?" A voice called out. I looked up into the trees to see an Asian man wearing peasant clothes much like mine and a boulder hat. In his hands he held a drum and a pair of drum sticks. I stared at his face and realized who it was. "Stan?"
"Hello, Brian. Miss me?"
"What are you doing here?"
"I don't know, it's you dream."
"I'm dreaming?"
"Can you think of any other possible explanation to why you are seeing all this crazy shit?"
"Good point."
"Do you need help?"
"My arms are hurting."
"Is that why you are shaking them?"
"Moving them makes the pain go away."
"How about this?" He jumped down from the tree and reached into a nearby bush. He pulled out an acoustic guitar. It was ratty and old, but looked sturdy. "Here." He handed it to me. I held the guitar and pulled the strap over my head. My fingers formed a chord and I began to strum. The pain disappeared almost instantly. I watched as Stan pulled his drum strap tight and began hitting along with my guitar strumming. It was almost like we were one with our playing. We moved along the blue path, playing our music for whatever ears that hid in the trees and bushes. We marched and played like never before. My smile grew larger with every strum and every beat. Our actions were in unison and our minds were combined as every note and hit came to us together. We were one as we were before. Friends again.
Ahead in the path a figure formed. Two to be exact. A person, most likely a female, was sitting next to a large brown object. As were grew closer, the image came into focus. She was wearing an old, tattered dress and had dirty, blonde hair. Her face looked as she hadn't washed in weeks. We marched next to her and she finally took notice of our presence, looking up at us with her scorn eyes. "Hello." I said to her unknown face.
"Hello, who are you?" She replied.
"I'm Brian and this is Stan. Who are you?"
"I don't have a name."
"No name?"
"No. I think I lost it."
"What do you have?"
"I have this." She put her hand on the object, which was a large upright bass.
"Would you like to play with us?" Stan asked
"Sure." She stood up and picked up her bass. Without even counting, we all started playing together. Though no one was around to hear the music being played, we could hear it, and that was fine. Stan's drumming laid the foundation for which my guitar would follow. The unnamed girl bobbed and weaved with her bass, creating a seductive sound for the world that wasn't listening, and we didn't care. Our music was making us feel complete and whole and we didn't care what the world thought.
Our music was interrupted by clouds. They began to form and swelled over the sky, taking away all sun's light. Rain came down as we scattered to cover. Finding none, we continued to run along the path, finding nothing but open trees. The storm got worse as we ran, pouring down harder and harder. All hope for a dry place to get under seemed dim like the sky, but we soon find something. A ramshackle, old house with a lit illuminating from the open window. We collectively saw it and charged for it's door, hoping we could stay inside. The door was closer and closer to our grasp. We could almost taste the warmth. Finally, the doorknob was in my hand. It turned with my hand and opened the door, revealing a bright light. It was so bright, I couldn't see. My hands covered my eyes as they closed themselves instinctively. Darkness behind my eyelids cushioned my eyes from the harmful light, but soon open again. I stared at the light peeking through the window. My head laid back against the pillow and adjusted to my dark room. My body jerked up out of the bed with a cold sweat all over me. The light poked through the window next to my bed onto where my face was laying. I looked at my arm. It had marks on it, most likely from me sleeping on it. I looked around my room with the mindset that I've never been here before. It was all so strange and unfamiliar, but slowly I remembered that I lived here. All the previous events in my life came back and I knew everything I needed to know. With this sudden realization of my current situation, I uttered the only words I could say, "That was the trippiest dream I have ever had.".
I got out of bed and changed my diaper. It was soaked to the point where you couldn't even see any white on it. I didn't even want to use wipes. I went straight for the shower, cleaning all over my body like it was a long time since I did it. I felt dirty for some reason, like I was uncomfortable in my own skin. It was definitely a strange feeling, but I shrugged it off. I dried my body off and diapered myself, taking it slow because I felt like it.
I walked over to my couch and planted my freshly diapered behind onto the couch. My hand searched for the remote to my side. I felt the cold plastic of the old remote as I grasped it and turned on the television. My mind, in this situation, quickly analyzed my dream. The kindergarten part was nothing new. I've had this dream before, but what came after was completely new. The red haired girl was the girl from my Diaper Buddies website. She was the one my mind was obsessed over for a long time. The part of her caressing my like a baby was certainly bizarre, as I have never had a fantasy or dream like that before. The most interesting part, however, was Stan. Why did I dream of Stan? Is that important to me. Of course, he's my best friend. I left him when we needed each other, now I want to make things alright. I think this was my subconscious trying to tell me something. I need to call Stan and get this band back together. This was what I wanted. I needed this. This was what the dream meant. I need to do this because it is the only thing I know how to do.
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