I quit my main band yesterday. The bass player/manager booked a gig behind my back. It was the second time in a month and a half. A fan sent me a text saying. “I’ll see you there.”
“Where,” I asked.
“Tonight at The Bowling Alley Bar.”
“News to me.”
I scrolled through my e-mail, my Facebook, then I logged onto the Bowlin’ Alley Page and I found it, a bone-fide Blues Jam Event, presented in HD clear copy and photo. My main band. My bass player/manager. Different guitar player, different guy on drums and it wasn’t me on the keyboard.
I called the bass player and, on the fifth ring, he answered, “Hello.”
I said. “I’m not playin’ with y’all tonight?”
“You’re not playin’ tonight. This is just a rehearsal for Tail Dragger who’s come up from…”
“You could’ve told me Monday. Remember Monday? The night I rescued the gig for us. You could’ve told me then.”
“Let me ex-…”
“I quit,” I said hangin’ up before I heard one more word from the prick.
Over ten years of workin’ with him.
Puttin’ up with his bully tactics.
Makin’ excuses for him.
Feelin’ sorry for him.
Ten years of lettin’ him book the gigs…
Lettin’ him lose the gigs…
Lettin’ him do it coz I didn’t want to do it…
Even though I’m better at it…
I let him do it for over
And, now, he gives me no choice,
no yay or nay, about
The Bowlin’ Alley Gig…
“I quit.” I said hangin’ up.
Hangin’ up before he could say, “This is not a money show.”
Before he could say another word coz
money’s not the point.
Money’s not the point.
Choice is the point.
Respect is the point.
So I said, “I quit.”
And I was hangin’
up quick coz
the point coz
it was my choice
to hang up coz,
if I stayed on
the line one
I’d have lost
hangin’ up, I said,
And, after hangin’ up,