Page 5 of Hey Girl

I roll my eyes and snatch it up in a huff.

Phones are dumb.

There’s never anyone with something interesting to say on the other end. Just people that have something boring and responsible to tell me, like Ron, whose name is lighting up my screen.

The band’s manager only calls to go over itineraries and talk business.

Let’s get this over with. I swipe the screen to accept the call.

“Hey Chris, just wanted to go over a thing or two before your meeting today,” he says, cutting to the chase.

See?

Wait, meeting?

Uggghhh…meetings are dumb. They’re boring. I have to sit still and pay attention and shit.

“What meeting?”

“The meeting I put in your phone three months ago and reminded you about last Wednesday, Friday, and twice yesterday,” he sounds exasperated, and I can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Uh…”

“The meeting with the new graphic designer I contracted!” he explodes on the other end.

“Oh. For the uh…”

“For the new album covers and merch designs! Remember? We’ve been talking for months about it being time to revamp theband’s look! The music, while still energizing, has taken on more of a passionate feel, and we need to market consistently with it. And the first step is redesigning everything for a fresh look.”

“Oh, yeah.” I actually remember all that, I’m just fucking with him now for amusement, like the slyboots I am.

“So anyway, I’ve found a damn good designer that actually lives in the vicinity, and I have some things to go over, like how to conduct yourself.”

“So you want me to point a wand at myself and move it around in front of my face to make me sing the right notes?”

“Chris!”

This is fun.

“I’m kidding! Okay, sorry, continue.” I can hear it coming: sit still in the meeting, don’t ask her if she ever considered we could be the daydream of an intergalactic bug on some far off planet, the usual.

“Her name is Rebecca and she’s...delicate.”

“So don’t drop her.”

“Chris!”

“Continue!”

“She suffers from a stutter and she’s also very timid. She gets scared and nervous around new people. And she’s doing this as a personal favor to me, so I want to be clear right now, and I want you to hear me when I say I expect you to be sensitive to that. Be patient…”

Fuck! I hate when people say that. It’s like they’re asking me to flap wings I don’t have.

“Be encouraging, pay attention, be respectful, and for fuck’s sake, don’t scare her! She’s brilliant at her job, and we’re lucky to score this contract with her, so don’t blow it!” He finishes firmly.

“Now that’s just hurtful,” I plant a hand on my hip, ready to give him the what-for. “When have I ever scared any employees away-”

“Your very first assistant, the managers of two VIP clubs, two flight attendants, a security guard, and 2019’s Miss Stars & Stripes,” he reminds me briskly.

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