"Guys, I got us a date to play live!" - When? Where? What equipment do they have? Do we need to give them anything? "We get about 30 tickets to give to friends and they give us dinner (pizza and beer)"
"I'll pick up the tickets, the bar's near where I live."
A week goes by. Two. Three. We go over every second of every song, finishing parts of the newer ones, polishing details of the old. The tickets arrive and we get five apiece. They gave us 32 but the last two go to the parents who own the basement we rehearse in.
I'm singing my parts of the show over and over again. When I'm in bed, in the shower, walking the dog...a few people stare, but what do I care? The show's this Friday and I want it to be amazing.
The day of the show. I get up, go to class and by the time I'm home I start feeling a little nervous. I choose my outfit, change, then go back to the original 'cause damn I look good. Or do I? Is the bandana too much? Should I let my hair down? What if there's air conditioning and I'm freezing? Maybe this is too plain, or maybe - the bell rings. They're here.
We rehearse one more time because no matter how much we did before there are always things we haven't thought of before this last second. We change the rythmn of two songs. Re-order the setlist. Add a few details. It suddenly occurs to me: instead of lending the other band's drummer my set, why not the other way around? I call him and arrange for us to meet at the bar at 8:30. It's 7 in the afternoon; time to load everything in the cars.
We go back and forth; bass, guitar, piano, microphones, parts of my drum kit, cables, transformer, amplifiers...stop everything. We list what's in there and if there's anything missing. We're good to go so the guys go in one car the girls in the other. We drive there chatting and I'm pumped, my phone's got about twelve missed calls and fifty messages from friends who are organizing to be there.
As soon as the handbrake's lifted, things get hectic. It's just after 8 o'clock and we want to be finished by 9:30. Doors open and slam shut, people go up and down the same set of stairs carrying various sizes of bags, boxes and cases, we finish unloading and realize there's something missing. Damnit! Go back and get it, drummer and bass player walk to the house, carry the stands back to the bar. The other drummer is there: we've got all we need. The band finishes setting up.
Sound check: we need to do about nine because one of the microphones keeps generating feedback and leaving us all deaf, I try to eat some pizza because it's almost 10 and haven't eaten since midday only to have our friend who's doing the soundcheck tell me to go back because you're not done. My stomach rumbles.
It's 10, our friends have started to arrive and we've finished any and all preparations. The bass player said at one point that he wanted to lock himself in the bathroom 'till it was time to play and I assume he did something of the sort because I don't see him. My friends, parents and boyfriend are here, looking amazing, getting some beers and laughing. I talk to them all, at least a little, until it's time.
We get together outside for a couple of last words, I write down the final setlist and after a couple more hugs, walk on stage.
Let the show begin.
