that gross story

WARNING, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU EATING,
OR A QUEASY.



So this past Saturday was quite the
eventful one, with my completely numb
acknowledgement that I was going to audition
for a band. My friend and I were scheduled to try
out as dual vocalists for a “Screamo” type band.
All the previous week, we collaborated on lyrics
(surprisingly it’s quite easy to work with him.)
I, with the haunting past of O.C.D., reread the lyrics
chicken scratched into my notepad about ten billion
times.

I’m the melodic vocalist, while my friend does the
screaming thing. I have no idea how one can abuse their
vocal cords to release a sound so furiously engaging.
I get jealous.

This is kinda what we're going for.



"This could be anywhere in the world" - Alexisonfire


Anyways, so I have this creeping little notion in my
head all morning, about how it’ll go, will they like us?
Will they like me? Will I screw up royally.
How will I sound. Will my vocals fit the music?
(I saved tracks off of their Myspace page through an flash
system that keeps it as MP3’s, easy as that. Playing them over
and over.) So I tried not to worry about it too much, I mean
I sang in a choir as a child.

Hell, I was kicked out of the choir as a kid for laughing
at everyone when they forgot the lyrics to the song we
were performing at the unveiling of a new building.
I mean, it was hilarious!

Anyways, I kept it out of my mind. At work,
I was just focusing on the time left for the day.
So I decide to further forget about my future
date with destiny by getting lunch. Yes, that’s it,
I’ll get some lunch!

So back to the O.C.D. thing, I can not leave a place
without furiously washing my hands.
(Hell I’ll open doors with sleeves!) I lie to myself and
say that I’m doing this so I won’t catch a cold that’ll
ruin my performance. But we all know it’s because
I might just be a lunatic.

I’m washing my hands at the restroom, speaking to a
friend, when I look over my shoulder. I hear a shuffling
of feet, and a man with ginger hair and a horrified
expressioncomes running in, hand clutching over his mouth.
I see something begin to stream between his fingers..
a mucous-like, orange-colored fluid. I know what’s going
to happen, because in that split second I spin into the
mirror and hear the pitter patter of my entire back
showered with the insides of someone’s stomach.
It was like a burst of air, and my back feeling quite drenched.

The was was literally covered in something and my
outline in the center of it. I can’t tell you the irony of the
moment where I wanted to wash my hands from the dirt
and then as easily caught a possible AIDS-bath. I ran so
fast into a janitor’s closet and stripped it’s not even funny.
Cursing, and in panic, I scrambled to see a water hose and
Spun the handle for release. I didn’t hold onto the hose,
and comically, much like a three Stooges sequence, the
hose whipped around uncontrollably and doused me
even more. I had a friend pick up a new shirt for me as
I laughed off the moment. Fearing I would run into the
assailant again. I didn’t want to see him, didn’t want an
apology. I didn’t want to be anywhere near that guy’s
mouth opening towards me again. I was so disgusted,
I wanted to just kinda peel this first layer of skin off or
something.

YUCH.

I mean I had to laugh it off (but cry deeply inside)
But I looked at it like It was a sign of good luck…
not the kind of luck I’d look for. But whatever.

Yeesh.

They told us to come back and audition again, so…
Thanks, pukey.

- Alex M.