So, another interesting day....
In our next to last episode we discussed the band-implosion and the singer's hissy fit. Turns out I was being a little unkind to fair Nessa, who had a bit more to deal with than I realised.
Turns out the droogy, drug-fucked guitarist was stalking her. Oh, just a tiny, teeny bit, but enough to weird her out and make me want to wash the spittle off.
Apparently he rang her on Sunday night, declaring his heartfelt apologies for his behaviour at rehearsals. He said that she was sooooo beautiful that he just couldn't concentrate and that even being near her made him disintegrate into a bumbling boob. (Happily she'd worked out the bumbing-boob bit before the phone call. Actually, it was her first sight of him that did that - women sense this stuff earlier than men, apparently.) So anyway, she got herself out of the embarrassing and droolly phone call as smartly as possible, and took a day or so to recover.
She's fine and quite sanguine now, but the lesson we all learned is,"never, never, never give the rookie band-member anyone's phone number without checking his general sanity first." I would just personally like to add: never let a male band member hire anyone without checking it out with someone with 2X chromosones.
The Bass Boss is very cross, by the way. Female singers are extremely hard to find and hard to keep in these parts, and he's been expressedly checking on would-be love-interests in order to stomp on their gonads. We want to keep Nessa happy, but more to the point, we want to keep Nessa.
Which brings us to George. George is 35, a Yarpie (that's South African-Anglo to you), is married and celebrating his anniversary today, and promised he's really, really normal and won't stalk anyone without permission. His interests include walks in the park, world peace and Metallica.
Welcome to the band George. Now, let's just see whether he can actually play the instrument.