I understand now, where the dead-looking bass players come from. The ones at all the bars, in the awful bands. Emotionless, staring off into space.

They're playing someone else's songs. Likely bad songs, but still someone else's songs in someone else's band. Probably depressed at their choice of instrument, because honestly, what the fuck is a bass without someone else's songs? Or at least someone else playing your songs.

And don't give me that Victor Wooten bullshit. No one wants to listen to that. Even if you do, you're lying to yourself.

I can at least be honest, and say that I'm thinking all of this because I was just that bass player. I deliberately didn't tell anyone I knew that I was playing tonight for fear they'd see me filling in in this group. I couldn't account for some regulars, though. Caught in the act.

And Waitress of My Dreams. She was so polite to the group. Over the top compliments, You guys were awesome! No, we weren't. This group is awful. Please don't look at me, I wasn't planning on woo-ing you until my solo show in February.

I don't know. I become the asshole in these situations. I hold myself above these people I'm playing with. Mostly because I own a tuner, and they sound like idiots trying to tune by ear with their amps on full-blast.

They were honest-to-goodness nice people, though. They believe so much in themselves, dreams of stardom...but at the end of the night they are worse than mediocre, and they...we...are a parody.

I'm not cut out for the bar scene. Caught in the rain, unpacking and repacking. Lifting a heavy speaker, pedal board, heavy bass, heavy head. No pay (which is criminal, but they gave us food). Locals who want to talk about playing bass, You were grooving...uh...pretty hard! The people who actually know what they're talking about being polite.

And through all of it...I've never caught myself being more fake. Watching from another compartment of my mind while I laugh and say thanks. Great set! to these people I barely know.

Well...I guess that does make me an asshole.

But I felt a little bit better after the set, when the main girl was packing up. I asked her, sincerely, if she had fun. She did.

So that makes me glad that I did this favor for her. I won't do it again, but she had fun and she feels good about herself. I'm doing my job.