Back in the days of my early thirties, I used to frequent clubs to hear live bands. It was just fun, just so much fun. Dressing up, dancing, drinking, meeting new folks, having little new experiences, staying out late, stopping at the soul food drive-thru to get some fried shrimp and French fries to take home afterwards. And they were huge shrimp too and fried just perfectly every time, I mean every time. Sometimes they were all gone before I got home because I ate them in the car.
So, one night I met the trumpet player in a band. I don’t recall the attraction; I don’t recall the name of the band, but I remember being in that particular club. I think I was flirting is how we met because I was one to step outside on break with the band members. They would sometimes hit a dooby or have a drink or talk about somebody or something. I smoked cigarettes standing around with them and I was mostly just a groupie. hahah
He seemed shy or distant or something and I remember thinking he was probably interesting to talk to too. Thinking back, I think he was attracted to me as well. I had fun, but I was not a loud person. I usually traveled alone or let’s say I mingled but I was usually alone. To this day I am still that way. Groups, especially loud talking people, well, I choose to be alone.
So, we met, we talked, we went out a couple of times. He introduced me to his friends who were all musicians and sometimes I sat in on their rehearsals at Shank’s place. I was in a good place with all of them. We smoked a little herb sometimes. Sometimes they had harder stuff but that wasn’t my thing. We drank beers and sometimes they would have Hennessy on hand. A few ladies who were the girl friends were sometimes at those rehearsals and it was all fun.
THE FUN INCIDENT
The fun incident happened because my friend had not paid his rent in three months, and he was evicted. I felt bad but I had no room at my place. His sister lived in New York so that was out, but she did send him enough money to get a new place, which he did. It took two days however, and those two days and nights he stayed with Shank. The third day, he had the key to the new place.
But on moving from his old place, he left his TV. That old apartment was on the second floor of a house, and the deck window faced the living room. The owner lived downstairs. The trumpet player was on his head to get his TV, so we devised a plan to get back in the apartment to get it out. (Every time I think about that night, I have a good laugh to this day)
It was around two in the morning, and my friend was tipping up the steps to his old place and I was behind him, but I could not stop laughing. No, I wasn’t high, it was just the act of breaking in to get his TV. Making sure not to step on the step that creaked, and he knew which one. I was tipping up the steps too. We got to the top, and the window had a screen, so he lifted that and was trying to get the window to slide up. It moved just a bit, just another bit, and another. He was in between the screen and the window trying to finagle the window open.
It wasn’t locked, it never was but it was rusty. My friend was struggling, struggling and I was still laughing. I can still hear him grunting and cursing the window with one leg out and one in. He was using his back to push it up and he was struggling with it. Cursing and struggling! Finally, the window budged, and it slid up. He climbed in and I waited on the deck as the watch out person. I was still laughing.
He came back to the window with his TV, and his eyes were big because he was scared. I was still laughing. The TV was one of those 18-inch deals. (Remember how heavy they used to be?)
We struggled getting that thing out the window and struggled to close the window but finally, thank you lord, finally, it closed. So down the steps we go both of us carrying this old ass TV and a light comes on in the apartment downstairs. I started laughing again and my friend was saying SSSHHHH!, be quiet, be quiet. No one came out of the apartment, maybe they went to the bathroom or something but whatever, we finally got back to my car and put the TV in the back seat.
We got to his new apartment, and he hooked up the TV and it didn’t work. He pushed it, reworked the antennae, unplugged it, and re plugged it and it just did not work. He said, "Is this my fucking TV?" It was but it was an old piece of shit TV.
I still laugh thinking back because I had never sneaked in a place, never watched to make sure no one was coming. What would I have done? And when the TV didn’t work, I totally cracked up, out loud, in his new place. But he did too and it was all good.
