Hey, look at this crowd of people outside the venue next to the band’s idling tour bus. It’s been more than half an hour since the show ended and these weirdos are still here. Don’t they have anything better to do? They’re just shivering in an alley, choking on diesel exhaust, and getting yelled at over and over by security.
All because — get a load of this — they think if they stand here long enough, they’re going to meet the band when they come out and that the band will be like “Hey, you look cool as hell, come hang with us and have a few drinks.”. Ha. Can you believe it? What a parade of patheticness. A lineup of lonely losers. Literally the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever seen.
Now of course I’m standing here, too, but that’s different. When the band gets out here, they’ll be able to tell right away that I’m their one and only real fan. I’ve got my copy of the rare Japanese import version of the debut album on both vinyl and cassette, and a couple Sharpies and a quick four-page letter I wrote to the lead singer.
It’ll be amazing. He’ll marvel at my appreciation of their music and we’ll laugh at those idiot “fans” over there who definitely didn’t even know there was a Japanese import cassette. After that, I’m thinking he’ll invite me on the bus to talk guitars over a few beers and then we’ll go from there. Pretty decent chance that by the end of it, my band winds up opening for them. Maybe on the next tour if our schedules line up.
But look, it’s not like I remotely care about meeting these guys. I’m probably going to leave in a few minutes, anyway, and get away from this whole uncomfortable scene. I’m just waiting for Uber surge prices to drop. I’m not some cringy teenybopper like that girl over there. She keeps craning her neck every time that side door creaks open and someone drags out a road case. Absolutely no chill. Gross.
We’ve — I mean they’ve — been waiting for a long time now. Meanwhile I’ve walked up and down the alley and entire venue parking lot four times now. Just for some exercise, to be clear. Not to try to see if the band snuck out of a different door already to go the bar next door or to talk to the roadie who was taking a smoke break on the steps and find out if he knows where the guys are.
All right, here we go. Yeah, there’s the drummer coming outside and the bassist is right behind. I can’t believe the tour manager isn’t shooing away all those losers swarming them. They’re really taking photos and signing autographs? I guess in that case, I might as well wander back over to the bus. Just so the band members and I can roll our eyes at everyone.