Storytime! Let's get to it!
I don't mean to brag, but I was a great trumpeteer in elementary and middle school. I'm just gonna put it out there. I had a knack for the instrument. I was naturally talented. God gifted me like that. However, natural ability has its downsides. Sure, I was good, but I wasn't always interested in the music we had to play. Aaaand when you're not particularly interested in something, you may be prone to making...unwise decisions.
I was in seventh grade. It was the class period before lunch. It was time...for BAND! I was tired that day. I knew the music. I walked into class, past the teacher, (who liked me as a player, but probably not as a student) and to the closet room where our instruments were kept. It was a small, dark room. The cubbies that held the instrument cases were almost big enough to fit in... The bigger ones at the end certainly were. Screw it, I thought. I'm tired. I know the music. Mr Brewer knows I know the music. They don't need me today. So I hopped in a big compartment meant for a tuba or something and nestled up, fetus-style. And I slept. I felt good. It was one of those half-asleep naps where yeah, you're asleep, but you can still hear what's going on around you, maybe even think about it a little. The percussion kids and the other two trumpeters in the class could see into the closet, but they didn't tell on me. I napped. It felt good. And a few minutes before the end of class, I popped outta there and groggily took my seat. Mr Brewer did a double take.
"Nik Stout, where were you?!"
"I was in the..band closet."
He was dumbfounded and flabbergasted. I had resigned to the possibility that I could very well get in trouble for skipping class (but, you know, I was there, so was I really skipping?) but Brewer was so surprised and so done with me that he just shook his head and pretended the whole thing never happened.
And that's the story of the time I fell asleep in the band closet.
Okey-dokey. Tomorrow is Monday, which means I'm talkin' movies (or TV). Alright. BYE.
No comments:
Post a Comment