“Yep, Tal. One month exactly. Then it's on.”
“Hell yeah, man. I’m pumped as shit, seriously pumped!” He was practically bouncing on his stool with excitement. “Open road, tour bus, shows…and chicks, oh yeah, chicks. Can’t forget about that, no, no, no, we cannot forget about them girls.”
There was a collective eye roll amongst the rest of us. Sometimes it seemed as if my brother seriously had a one track mind. “Just as long as you don’t forget we are in this to play music. You're not on this tour for the sole purpose of fucking your way across the country from coast to coast,” I said. “This is about the music and our fans.”
“Why not both? I can’t help it if ladies love the ‘D.’”
“And there he goes about his dick. I was wondering how soon it would be before
that would come up,” Jay shook his head, laughing.
Talon’s eyes narrowed into mischievous slits. “That’s exactly what she said, man.”
“Damn it, Tal,” Jeremiah choked on his beer as the rest of us broke into laughter.
My brother and I were complete opposites. He was outspoken, loud, crude, and ridiculous, while I was more of the stereotypical quiet type, only a bit more intense and definitely a lot more focused. I was the one always keeping the business in mind in addition to the music. It was probably why he got laid more often than any of us on tour the first go around, though. All he cared about was banging the drums, then banging chicks. As long as it kept him happy and off the drugs, we were okay with it. After all, it could have been worse. Indeed, there had been many times when it had been worse...a lot worse.
“So, speaking of touring – and leaving the topic of groupies alone for a bit,” I gave my brother a sideways glance that told him we needed to get down to business. “We have a lot to do before we kick off the tour. I mean, first and foremost, we have to rehearse our asses off. We have a reputation as a band to uphold, and our fans will not be satisfied with second rate, sloppy performances. We have to be tight as shit. We didn't get to the top by messing around and being lazy, so this is no time to start with that shit.
“We have to practice more of the newer songs as well as our old stuff, of course, but there’s also bookings, accommodations, updated gear for the road, promotion, travel plans, sponsors. I mean, we've a few people on that stuff, but we need to go over all those details ourselves as well, just to make sure everything is perfect.”
The others nodded, but not one of the assholes was taking notes. Before, they had relied on me to take care of most of those things, if not all of them. And, I hadn't minded so much, seeing as I had always been a bit of a workaholic. But, unlike before, I now had a Titanic-size business to run on top of everything else. I just couldn’t afford to do it all by myself again; not if I wanted to sleep more than an hour every night. That was part of the reason I’d gotten burnt out on touring last time.
“How about we do this? Each one of you takes responsibility for a couple of the tasks I've just mentioned, and we can all get that stuff knocked out together,” I suggested. “It'll just be easier, more streamlined, and more efficient like that, and everyone is pulling their weight equally. That's fair, right?”
Grumbles of dissent circled the group along with flimsy excuses. I sighed and couldn't help the sting of anger and frustration bubbling in my core. They surely knew I couldn’t do all of it by myself again. Didn’t they?
“That’s funny, Owe. You think the rest of us are responsible enough to help manage a tour?” Talon cocked his eyebrow, then hit a “da dum tiss” on the drums and hi-hat.
I gave him, and the rest of them, a stone cold look. “Seriously? You wanna joke about this? You guys all know I can’t handle all of that planning on top of running the record company while we’re touring. It's just physically impossible. Not to mention mentally. I’d lose it. There aren't enough hours in the day. Literally.”
“I know, Mr. Young CEO Slash Rock Star. Sounds like you need another solution aside from depending on us slackers, huh? C'mon, bro, you know us. We're, uh...well, we're just not cut out for that type of shit, you know? I'm good at banging — chicks and drums, mind you — but that's about all I’ve got to bring to the table,” Tal said.
I sighed again, always wary of any solution he came up with. “What exactly do you have in mind, there, little brother?”
“They are called assistants. Ever heard of 'em? Seriously, dude, they not only do all the grunt work, but they also bring you coffee and snacks, and, oh yeah, they generally have really nice asses to look at as they are running off to get your shit done.”
Of course, his solution had to do with bringing a woman into the mix. I wasn't even the least bit surprised. Still, it was a solution worth considering. “I don’t know, man. And why do you just assume I would have to hire a woman? Why can’t we get a male assistant?”
“Um, first off, total sausage fest. There are enough swinging dicks in this room already. I think some feminine company on the road could help keep things in line. Secondly, they just smell better. Plus, they’re just more fun to look at.”
I frowned at him, but I had to admit that he did have a point in terms of getting an assistant. Not necessarily the other stuff, of course. It didn't have to be a woman, and even if it was, it didn't have to be an attractive one. No – efficiency and reliability were my top priorities in that regard. But yeah, getting an assistant in on the mix really could help to make things go a lot more smoothly for sure.
But at the same time, I hated bringing a stranger into the mix, and a woman at that. There was already the possibility that complications could arise with the band, as they had in times past, and I certainly didn’t want any sort of tension to get between us by adding a new element to the mix.
However, there was absolutely no way I could handle managing the tour all by myself. Not even a chance. And with these bozos not being able to do pretty much anything aside from play their instruments and rock out, it was quickly beginning to look like I'd have no other option but to hire somebody, as much as I wasn’t sold on the idea of someone outside our circle handling some of the load. Sometimes, the only solution was the uncomfortable one, and it really didn't seem like there'd be any other way to do this.
I sighed and shrugged my shoulders, conceding to the idea. “Screw it; I guess I’ll make a few calls, see what’s out there. I have a business contact that has a staffing services agency that can probably hook us up,” I said.
“Why don’t you give him a call this afternoon, before we start partying at your place tonight?” Jeremiah suggested.
I supposed there was no time like the present to get the ball rolling.
“Yeah, I think I’ll do that. And no, Tal, we are not getting some groupie-wannabe tour manager just for you to play with. I’m finding someone professional, reliable, organized, and detail-oriented. And if she happens to look like the rear end of a donkey, so be it.
“And before you ask why... It’s so that, as you said in your own words, she can keep you assholes in line. I’m not playing road mom, not again, not this time. Without someone focused and disciplined to hold everything together, this whole thing is gonna fall apart. I refuse to let that happen. Not on my watch. We are not going to disappoint millions of fans out there, not if we can help it. And, you guys better remember that.”
“Road mom,” Talon snorted. “You were kinda like that last time. I remember you having to hold Jay’s hair more than a few times while he puked his guts out. My apologies for being too busy puking in the shower to help.”