“Get the guitar tech over here, you know, whatshisname.”

What Tony says, must be obeyed. Sometimes, anyway.

Mike got up out of his chair and shouted backstage, “Yo, JJ, get your butt over here.”

Jonny James played guitar in a high school band. JJ thought he was a good player, but he knew he would never make it in the world of professional musicians. And that was ok, it was really, really, ok.

JJ loved the guitar. He knew everything about them. JJ could talk for hours about the type of guitars and amps that Hendrix used. People learned quickly to not get him started on the circuits in Clapton’s wah-wah pedal. JJ loved changing capacitors.

Mike was the road crew manager. JJ worked for him for over a year, going here and there with different bands. It was a life.
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She thought she heard a knock at the back door.

A dream, perhaps? It was a cold night, but warm under the blankets. She opened one eye.

2:05am. No one ever knocked at the back door. Sleep was so inviting…

Another knock. The wind picked up. Maybe something banged against the door? Two eyes this time.

2:14am. That was it, the wind. I’m going to the park tomorrow, I’ve got to pack a lunch…

Two more knocks. Eyes wide.

2:22am. Ok, what the hell?
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