CHAPTER ONE: Bedroom Farce
I looked around the room, doubtful of my ability to finish before the photo shoot. I always have the best of intentions. Whatıs that saying,"The road to hell is paved with good intentions?" The room sure looked like hell. Candy wrappers, video games, wadded up drawings, dirty clothes, and what may have been an orange peel, though I canıt imagine how something healthy had come to rest among my possessions.
"Yah-yah evil spider woman! I have captured you by the short rabbits, and can now deliver you violently to your gynecologist for a thorough examination!" Never let it be said that AJ canıt think of something interesting to say. At the time of this eloquent exclamation, he was bouncing on what-I-think-was-my-bed. It was difficult to tell from my vantage point. No doubt about it, it was time to clean up, or hire a guide.
"How's you stomach?" Brian asked while flipping through some magazine. Massive amounts of sarcasm were involved. In the question, not the flipping. No doubt about it, he was still pissed at me. We had played b-ball with some guys in the band and a few roadies earlier in the day, and lost. Brian, though a good loser at video games and the like, hated to loose at basketball.
"Better. I drank some milk." Thereıs one for the milk ad. "Got nausea? Get milk." Or something along those lines.
"Two points. Two stupid points. We might have won if you hadn't wimped out." I knew he was mad then, Brian rarely "pulled a Kevin" on me.
"Sorry, but I felt it prudent not to blow-chunks all over the court."
"Hey," AJ stopped his Tigger impersonations long enough to ask, "I thought your stomach was burning, not about to blow. Man, I told you not to let Howie choose your lunch!"
"Both, a little." I confessed. I hated to complain because I knew it would lead to accusations of whining. That's one lesson I learned over the past year, no matter that you have grown up as far as the whining characteristic goes, once seen as a whiner, you will always be seen as one.
"You wouldnıt have those problems if you wouldnıt eat so much junk."
Uh-oh. The "I am in father mode" voice. Worse, it was from Kevin, who hovered in the doorway. Well, his head was in the doorway. He wasnıt ready to committee his entire body to such unsanitary conditions.
"Havenıt you cleaned up this room yet? What the hell have you been doing for the past three hours?"
"Watching me bounce, taking care of the old Aje." Kevin shot him a look of disgust. I guess bouncing is not on Kevin’s list of approved activities.
"No, really man, Nick
hasn't been feeling well. His stomach was hurting earlier,
and he was making the threats to visit the porcelain God."
It was nice of AJ to take some of the heat. Frankly, I
never knew where I stood with AJ. There were times like
these when he gave into some primitive urge to protect me, then
there were those times when he seemed to possess a
deep-seated urge to beat me about the head with a tire-iron.
One thing I'll say for Kevin, he would never beat me with a tire-iron. A shoehorn, maybe. Might as well get some use out of them, he has three. No joke, three. One metal for the shoes heıs sweated in, one wood for his dress/good shoes (I think smell is the deciding factor here, but far be it from me to explore this thesis.) and one plastic. I have never seen the plastic shoe-horn put to use, which leaves me with the impression that it is part of Kevin's Emergency Shoe Placement Kit, just in case one of the others is lost, broken, or stolen by a desperate fan (I can think of no otherıs that would strive for possession of such a relic).
"You shouldnıt eat Mexican food, then ice-cream, then play basketball. No wonder your tummy is in an uproar. Don't you ever think?" Tummy. Iım the only one Kevin would use such a baby word in describing. What does he think, that Iım still 13?
"Why, no Kevin. I never think. That might put you out of a job."
Man, was my big mouth in over-drive. I could smell trouble in the air. Then again, could just be those gamy sweat-socks, where ever they were in the rubble.
Brain shot me the "can't you ever keep your mouth shut?" look, while AJ, in that strange but wonderful world of his own, managed to bounce off the I-think-itıs-my-bed, face to the floor.
"Ewww, what a smell!" Oh good. I think he found my sweat-socks.
"Serious, dude, you need to get this cleaned up. Weıre not waiting on you tomorrow. When itıs time to leave, itıs time to leave. Iım tired of your crap being everywhere. Youıre too damn old to leave things in such a mess. And you can damn will pay the extra cleaning fee out of your own pocket if itıs not done." Never let it be said that Kevin gave an inch. "And don't try an use your stomach as an excuse. You probably just pulled a muscle from being out of shape." Direct hit, Kevin.
AJ and Brian were suddenly enticed by that magazine. Wonder what was so interesting? If it had been AJ's I would have guessed it to be a Playboy. For Brian I went with Modern Maturity. Of course, no way it could be Kevin's, because how would a copy of "Anal Retentive" come to rest in this room?
"Fine, fine. I have over an hour before I have to get ready, so Iıll work on it now." I began to push trash in the bag I had acquired earlier for this exact purpose. Looking at the trash was better than looking anywhere else at this point. One, because I didnıt want anyone to know Kevin had really hurt my feelings, and two, because I didnıt want anyone to know I was considering wrapping that bag around Kevin's head. Might wind up on MTV.
Brian jumped up, scattering a good deal of my well-placed mess. I took satisfaction in the knowledge that what looked like utter chaos to others was, OK, to be honest it was just a damn mess. I have no idea where things are. On the other hand, Kevin knows where all his stuff is, and he has no more clean underwear than I do. If this last analogy makes no sense to you, may I suggest you spend the next "Kevin forgot to do laundry and is wearing yesterdayıs boxers again" day on a hot, crowded bus. A rather disgusting habit from a man with three shoehorns.
After making a mess of my mess, Brian exited with Kevin, but not very far. AJ and I could hear them through the still cracked door. Nothing makes me happier than to have Kevin and Brian discuss the merits of my private life in a very public hallway.
"Why'd you have to jump all over him, Kev? He really didnıt feel good, and that remark about being out of shape was out of line. We’re all a bit out of shape at the start of a tour! And you know he has been working out, getting in better shape!" Good old Brian, stand up for Frack.
“Brian, you always stand
up for him," "State the obvious" Kevin is on
a roll today. "He could be a mad, sex-crazed ax
murderer and you would defend him. Look, all Iım asking is
that he cleans up the room so we can leave on time
tomorrow. Did he or did not hold up the bus at the last
hotel?"
To be honest and fair, Kevin had a point there. I did oversleep after the last concert. To tell you the truth, I wasn't feeling so hot day-before-yesterday, but I wasnıt going to mention that to anyone.
In the meantime my demented bandmate AJ has switched to Jacques Cousteau impersonations and was now diving among my mess. There was a purpose to his madness, he was in "help Nick" mode again, and secretly I think he was having a blast rummaging through the debris; a treasure hunt of trash.
"Here Nick," he pulled the bag from my hands, stuffing it with junk. "Maybe weıll get lucky and rid the world of your smelly feet leftovers." Hit a man's sweat-socks when he is down!
"Aje, thanks man, but you donıt have to." I was feeling a bit embarrassed by the entire situation. Leaving my room in such a mess, having my ass chewed by Kevin. No matter the town, the venue, there are days when it seems that nothing ever changes.
"No problem, man. This way you'll owe me! Ahhhha!" AJ was good at diabolical laughter now, he had had so much practice with Larger Than Life. "But serious, if I come up with your nasty underwear on my head, you are SO dead!"
With his help, it only took half-an-hour to clean up the room. It should be noted that I am using my definition of clean, not Kevinıs. His would be "spotless." Mine is "there is a path from the door to the bed, which in and of itself can now be seen."
I had just enough time for a quick shower and change into BSB approved clothing. Once in a great while I did give some thought to what I was wearing, and decided that today would be a "no underarm pit hair" day. You know, sometimes you just need to give people a break.
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