When They Say Your Name, You Walk On Stage

“Would you like to take a picture with a Grateful Dead, young man?”

“Bobby, I’m in the band.”

“I’m pretty sure the new guy’s black.”

“No, I’m the old new guy. Jeff.”

“Not ringing a bell.”

“Jeff Chimenti.”

…

“New Brent.”

“Oh, hey. Didn’t recognize you standing up.”

“Sure.”

“I think we’re gonna have a great show. Let’s, uh, just have some fun out there.”

“Sounds great, Bob.”

“But, you know, not too much fun. Or I’ll yell at you in front of the whole crowd.”

“Okay.”

“Speaking of yelling at people, you see the drummers lately?”

“They’re in the parking lot trying to sell counterfeit Bitcoins.”

“Oh, yeah. I bought a couple.”

“They’re fake, Bob. They’re not worth anything.”

“They are when I sign ’em.”

“Huh. Smart.”

“I got a lotta tricks up my sleeve.”

“You really do.”

…

“Bob, do you have any food?”

“I’m not going though this again, New Brent. You wanted to eat, you should have joined The Eagles.”

“I hate The Eagles, man.”

“Everybody hates The Eagles, but they lay out a spread.”