Tristesse

One of my friends lives in a small close-knit village a few miles away from where I live. She said they were having their annual fete and the organiser, a nice old woman, wanted to have a band playing towards the end, to keep the punters interested through to a jazz event they were holding in the evening. We agreed, and I, as the band's frontman and spokesperson, had a few conversations with her and a gentleman who had agreed to sort us out with a PA system. We were all set, until our rhythm guitarist suddenly sprung on us that he had to visit his grandmother on the weekend it was to take place and that he couldn't miss it. Our drummer was on a skiing holiday at the time, some place in France I think. He had said he was fine to do it, as we were keeping in contact through facebook. Unfortunately, a few days after we had confirmed that we would do it, he sent me a message mentioning that he had slightly broken his leg. And he was now in cast from hip to toe.

Safe to say, not wanting to back out on our word, the lead guitarist and I said we would sort out something acoustic out as we had done a couple of acoustic sets before. In the end, I forgot all my words, we had a crowd of about 7 people as everyone else had gone home, and a drunk couple fell backwards off of a haybale. The End.

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