Breakfast of Champions

The next morning the house was buzzing with energy, I woke up after a few hours sleep, refreshed and energized. There was the hum and excitement of women in the house and domestic smells of breakfast being made. Sausage and eggs were in the air. I could hear the radio playing from the kitchen. I went down to the kitchen to find the boys sitting at the kitchen table, each with a girl I recognized from last night's audience. They had finished eating, their plates pushed away from them. The boys were leaning back in their chairs. The cats that ate the canaries, they were all engrossed in their own conversations until I walked into the room.
"Welcome to the Rock ‘n’ Roll lifestyle," I said, "I see the fruits of your labor are paying off, already."
"Good Morning, Michael!" Greeted me in chorus.
"What happened to you last night?" Johnny asked.
"I went down to the lake to think things over."
"Annnd?" Ian prompted.
"I noticed during Five to One Brian was a little sloppy on the solo."
"Man, can we talk about it the next time we practice? I mean let us enjoy this."
"That's not the right attitude for success."
"Cmon, let's bask in our glory a little." Johnny said.
"OK," I said, "did anyone get the paper and see if we got a review."
"Nah, we didn't check the paper."
"A good review might get us a better deal with the agent Reggie was talking about."
"Man, you really need to get laid."
"I've fucked most of the girls in this town," I said. I walked out to the front porch to get the morning paper. I wanted to see if any of my efforts to plant a story, or get a review in one of the papers had succeeded. I leafed through the paper until I found Jim's column. It had a badly printed but recognizable picture of him at the columns head. The headline jumped out at me, but I couldn't bring myself to read the review. I knew we did a good show. I did my best, but what if someone else not as close to it saw something different and didn't like it? It was only a mention in a column anyway, I rationalized, but like my grandmother used to say "you have to start somewhere." I heard the phone ringing, one of the boys took the message. It was Reggie reminding us of our appointment on Wednesday with Swifty, the booking agent, and the directions to his office. I made a note to myself to call Swifty first thing Monday morning.

(The Last Stage is available on Kindle, Nook Books, or if you would like a signed copy of The Last Stage they're available from my website (only $20!) at Jymsbooks via Paypal (jymwrite@aol.com, please don't forget your mailing address!)

Chapter 17 & 18: Left Behind & Swifty