Post by ¡Viva la Gabe! on Jul 16, 2009 0:59:13 GMT -5
let me ask you, hey
have you heard of my religion?
Gabe slammed his glass down on the bar, breathing an overenthusiastic sigh of appreciation. Straight vodka, his beverage of choice, was always tasty on a night when he was scheduled to DJ. Especially at a bar that he actually co-owned with three other dudes. It didn't really get much better than that. Gabe loved Pete & Ryland & Travie, he loved booze, he loved music. It all really worked out in his favor, except when the crazy fans noticed he was there. Tonight would not be one of those nights, though. He'd been there for an hour and hadn't been approached once, except by a couple chicks who wanted to flirt with him.
"Alright, barkeep," Gabe exclaimed. It was his natural tone of voice, not him trying to be heard over the music. "I have appreciated your services tonight, and will repay you with some services of my own." He winked. "But for the moment, I must leave you to embark on some business excursions of my own." The bartender, a man Gabe actually knew quite well, gave him a dubious look, but replied with a calm, "See you later, Gabe," before picking up the empty glass and cleaning it out with a damp rag.
He reached the turntable, located up a small staircase and towards the back of the small club. Already there waiting for him was Sharon, the girl whose job was to make sure the music didn't get too loud. It was a lost cause. Gabe would turn up the music to full blast every five minutes, and Sharon would turn it right back down until she just got sick of it and let Gabe do whatever shit he wanted. It was impatience that made her give in, but Gabe stuck by the theory that he was her favorite. The first song he played was Good Girls Go Bad by his own band, a little introductory song he'd chosen the previous night. It was a crowd favorite. While he saw the dancers in his peripheral vision, he was also watching the entrance, waiting for someone he knew to come in.
it's called the church of hot addiction