Again with the secret project.
In the evening I trek down to Putney and the Half Moon, where Mr Quillin is giving a performance that I’m required to hold down the bottom end of. If you see what I mean.
A pleasant enough stroll (pleasant enough for what? I hear you ask).
When I arrive, someone introduces himself as the drummer. He was half an hour early, I’m ten minutes late. Mr Q is nowhere to be seen as yet. We hang around and wait until the other bands have finished soundchecking, then are encouraged to try out our stuff. I’m playing through a borrowed amp that’s satisfyingly knee-throbbing in volume and bassiness.
Mr Q arrives after we’ve been doing this for some time and runs through a few of the songs with us. Then we abandon the stage and head to the bar. Then we head back to the venue and begin to play to the frankly unpopulated room. People filter in, though, which manages to prevent it from being merely a very involved rehearsal.
It’s quite a fun thing, though. As bass player, I hardly ever have to play more than one note at a time anyway. Afterwards we sit in the bar and chat until I head home (I’m sure my departure doesn’t kill the conversation. It’s just that I play no further part in it).
Getting home I buy some food from the corner shop. I’m shocked to discover how many calories junk food has in it. I never suspected such a thing was possible. Shocking! Has anyone alerted the authorities?