Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > The Bass Files
Theater of the Absurd
8 reviewsThis chapter is absurd for various reasons, the most absurd one being that Sheena is über-joyous at the very end of it. No, I did not have a ghost writer for this one.
1Funny
29. Theater of the Absurd
"... Barely stuttered out ´A joke of a romantic´ or just stuck to my tongue Weighed down with words too over-dramatic/ Tonight it´s ´It can´t get much worse´ vs. ´No-one should ever feel like´/"
Patrick turned the radio off. "When exactly did lyrics in mainstream music stop making any sense? The crap they play on the radio these days," he grunted. "The music was good though."*
I put one of the records I had lying around in my car into the CD player and the first track, "Love for Tender" started to play.
"Can you change the song, Sheena? This only makes me think of Pete and Joyce."
"Sure," I skipped this and the following song to listen to one of my all-time favorites.
"Trying to be too bad Trying to talk too tough/ Trying to jack the lad/ You´d think he´d had enough/ But he´s not the man you´d think that he can be/ I just don´t know why you can´t see/ That he is only the imposter.../"**
"That he is only the imposter!" I cheered along.
Patrick glared at me, "Sheena, are you kidding me?"
"My bad. Sorry, dude," I turned the CD player off. Music wasn´t really on Patrick´s good side today. Kinda weird.
_ _ _ _ _
The day before Patrick, Andy, Joe and Pete would leave for the tour was my birthday. Various family members called to congratulate me and the children in my class even sang me "Happy Birthday". Even though I was certain that neither of my friends actually knew the date of my birthday I was still hoping that at least Patrick would have miraculously figured it out.
In the evening I found myself in front of the TV, eating some cake that I had bought myself. I hesitated at first but then dialed Patrick´s cell number. When he answered I asked him if he cared to hang out.
He accepted, "I´m still at work but you could meet me there. I´m done in half an hour."
I got ready to leave and ushered Mr. Meatball out of my apartment. I had actually started to feed him so it was no surprise that he didn´t stop dropping by. I found myself wondering whether I should get myself a cat door.
"Plonk," he said when I placed him on the doormat.
"What did you just say?" I stared at the animal.
"Meow."* Upon that he walked down the hallway.
When I arrived at the music store Patrick worked at the lights were out. I knocked at the door and realized it wasn´t locked yet. I entered.
Suddenly the lights went on and, with my eye still adjusting themselves to the sudden luminance, I made out the silhouettes of five people standing in the middle of the store, surrounded by all kinds of instruments.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
Andy, Joe, Patrick, Pete and Joyce were smiling at me. Each of them (except for your gangsta bassist who nodded at me) hugged me quickly while I probably still looked like a deer under the wheels of a Hummer.**
"How did you-... This is so cool of you, guys!" I screamed.
Andy pointed at Patrick, "It´s his achievement really."
Patrick shrugged, "Yeah, I checked your driving license for your birthdate when you weren´t looking the other day."
Weird. But it had been for a good cause.
Joyce and Pete left the room and headed for the back of the store. They weren´t going to... were they?
"Want some cake?" Joe motioned towards a camping table with paper plates, plastic forks and a huge strawberry cream-filled cake on it.
I nodded eagerly, "Bet your ´fro, I do."
While Joe was busy handing pieces of cake to all of us I noticed Joyce and Pete returning, carrying a huge box wrapped in blue paper. My heart skipped a beat.
"This is for you, Sheena," Joyce said sweetly.
"You ´eally shoon´t ´ave..." I mumbled with cake in my mouth.
Andy smirked, "You just sounded like Joe when he´s talking."
"Funny, Andy," Joe retorted.
"Again, credit goes to Patrick," Joyce said.
"Yes, he was driving us all nuts about this thing," Joe said with a whiny voice.
Patrick blushed slightly, "I hope you like it. Um, all of us chipped in for this."
Pete cleared his throat, "I actually didn´t... but I guess I still did my due."
Confusing comment. But that was ok. He didn´t really know me that well.
"Oh, I bet I will," I got ahold of the box and stared at it for a moment.
Pete pushed the bangs out of his eyes, "Open it up already."
I ripped the paper off the cardboard box, "Working on it, Pee."
FOR THE LOVE OF CHOCOLATE IN PURPLE WRAPPER WITH A COW ON IT! ***
IT WAS A BASS! THE EXACT KIND PETE HAD!
"Oh, Patrick! This is so amazing!" I beamed.
He smiled, "I thought you would be happy about it."
These guys were the best. And Joyce was back on my good side too. Heck, I even found Pete charming all of a sudden. If it hadn´t been for him I would have never laid my eyes on that beauty. (Not Pete, his bass. Just making sure you´re not doing the same mistake twice.)
Despite my usual insecurites I felt the urge to hug each and everyone of them to thank them for this incredible thoughtful gift and complied with it. Even hugged Pete this time.
_______________
* Absurd? Well, the only cool Beckett I know is Samuel Beckett. You know, the one in "The Nobel Prize Winner Is..."
** Ah, the gold old days. Back when one could actually make sense of boy-hates-girl´s guts-because-she-hooked-up-with-someone else lyrics without being an expert on American popular culture and/ or Pete Wentz´s high school drama life. [Elvis Costello and the Attractions´ "Get Happy!!"]
* "I understand that you´re not quite familiar with the works of Samuel Beckett."
** Stupid driver forgot to turn the headlights on.
** May I refer you to chapter "29. Literary Therapy" of /The Bass Files: Parallel Universe/?
"... Barely stuttered out ´A joke of a romantic´ or just stuck to my tongue Weighed down with words too over-dramatic/ Tonight it´s ´It can´t get much worse´ vs. ´No-one should ever feel like´/"
Patrick turned the radio off. "When exactly did lyrics in mainstream music stop making any sense? The crap they play on the radio these days," he grunted. "The music was good though."*
I put one of the records I had lying around in my car into the CD player and the first track, "Love for Tender" started to play.
"Can you change the song, Sheena? This only makes me think of Pete and Joyce."
"Sure," I skipped this and the following song to listen to one of my all-time favorites.
"Trying to be too bad Trying to talk too tough/ Trying to jack the lad/ You´d think he´d had enough/ But he´s not the man you´d think that he can be/ I just don´t know why you can´t see/ That he is only the imposter.../"**
"That he is only the imposter!" I cheered along.
Patrick glared at me, "Sheena, are you kidding me?"
"My bad. Sorry, dude," I turned the CD player off. Music wasn´t really on Patrick´s good side today. Kinda weird.
_ _ _ _ _
The day before Patrick, Andy, Joe and Pete would leave for the tour was my birthday. Various family members called to congratulate me and the children in my class even sang me "Happy Birthday". Even though I was certain that neither of my friends actually knew the date of my birthday I was still hoping that at least Patrick would have miraculously figured it out.
In the evening I found myself in front of the TV, eating some cake that I had bought myself. I hesitated at first but then dialed Patrick´s cell number. When he answered I asked him if he cared to hang out.
He accepted, "I´m still at work but you could meet me there. I´m done in half an hour."
I got ready to leave and ushered Mr. Meatball out of my apartment. I had actually started to feed him so it was no surprise that he didn´t stop dropping by. I found myself wondering whether I should get myself a cat door.
"Plonk," he said when I placed him on the doormat.
"What did you just say?" I stared at the animal.
"Meow."* Upon that he walked down the hallway.
When I arrived at the music store Patrick worked at the lights were out. I knocked at the door and realized it wasn´t locked yet. I entered.
Suddenly the lights went on and, with my eye still adjusting themselves to the sudden luminance, I made out the silhouettes of five people standing in the middle of the store, surrounded by all kinds of instruments.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
Andy, Joe, Patrick, Pete and Joyce were smiling at me. Each of them (except for your gangsta bassist who nodded at me) hugged me quickly while I probably still looked like a deer under the wheels of a Hummer.**
"How did you-... This is so cool of you, guys!" I screamed.
Andy pointed at Patrick, "It´s his achievement really."
Patrick shrugged, "Yeah, I checked your driving license for your birthdate when you weren´t looking the other day."
Weird. But it had been for a good cause.
Joyce and Pete left the room and headed for the back of the store. They weren´t going to... were they?
"Want some cake?" Joe motioned towards a camping table with paper plates, plastic forks and a huge strawberry cream-filled cake on it.
I nodded eagerly, "Bet your ´fro, I do."
While Joe was busy handing pieces of cake to all of us I noticed Joyce and Pete returning, carrying a huge box wrapped in blue paper. My heart skipped a beat.
"This is for you, Sheena," Joyce said sweetly.
"You ´eally shoon´t ´ave..." I mumbled with cake in my mouth.
Andy smirked, "You just sounded like Joe when he´s talking."
"Funny, Andy," Joe retorted.
"Again, credit goes to Patrick," Joyce said.
"Yes, he was driving us all nuts about this thing," Joe said with a whiny voice.
Patrick blushed slightly, "I hope you like it. Um, all of us chipped in for this."
Pete cleared his throat, "I actually didn´t... but I guess I still did my due."
Confusing comment. But that was ok. He didn´t really know me that well.
"Oh, I bet I will," I got ahold of the box and stared at it for a moment.
Pete pushed the bangs out of his eyes, "Open it up already."
I ripped the paper off the cardboard box, "Working on it, Pee."
FOR THE LOVE OF CHOCOLATE IN PURPLE WRAPPER WITH A COW ON IT! ***
IT WAS A BASS! THE EXACT KIND PETE HAD!
"Oh, Patrick! This is so amazing!" I beamed.
He smiled, "I thought you would be happy about it."
These guys were the best. And Joyce was back on my good side too. Heck, I even found Pete charming all of a sudden. If it hadn´t been for him I would have never laid my eyes on that beauty. (Not Pete, his bass. Just making sure you´re not doing the same mistake twice.)
Despite my usual insecurites I felt the urge to hug each and everyone of them to thank them for this incredible thoughtful gift and complied with it. Even hugged Pete this time.
_______________
* Absurd? Well, the only cool Beckett I know is Samuel Beckett. You know, the one in "The Nobel Prize Winner Is..."
** Ah, the gold old days. Back when one could actually make sense of boy-hates-girl´s guts-because-she-hooked-up-with-someone else lyrics without being an expert on American popular culture and/ or Pete Wentz´s high school drama life. [Elvis Costello and the Attractions´ "Get Happy!!"]
* "I understand that you´re not quite familiar with the works of Samuel Beckett."
** Stupid driver forgot to turn the headlights on.
** May I refer you to chapter "29. Literary Therapy" of /The Bass Files: Parallel Universe/?
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