1 A Stray Cat

#1

I stopped dead in the middle of the street and lost myself in the sound and visual of this one hell of a crazy girl. Her natural look, if viewed in isolation, was decidedly unremarkable. Just a regular teenage girl, probably about fifteen, uncombed scruffy hair, pale skin, and average features that do not really stand out. Her captivating eyes were special not because of how they were physically shaped but because of the raw energy that shone through them, almost like those in the laser beam shooting eyes of the Internet cat memes. But she was no elegantly sneaky cat, nor did she have any graceful feline movements. If I were to continue the cat comparisons, I'd have to say she looked and moved like a cat jumping startled from getting her tail stomped on while she's on catnip, and if you could imagine such a cat can sing – screech – and play a guitar, then you'd have quite close image of what she was really like on my first encounter.

This girl was busking on the street with an un-amped electronic guitar but was slaying the strings so hard that they could still be heard on a busy street. Her screeching – singing – made such a piercing raw sound that many would have found unpleasant (which probably explains why so many people stopped by to have a look due to the sheer attention grabbing power of her performance but shuffled away in a few seconds), but I, and seemingly only I, could hear that there was something otherworldly appealing about the unique tone it was resonating in.

The song she was singingly was unmistakably original, which in no way meant they were good, but it certainly was something different. Most buskers tend to sing songs that average passers-by would recognize, hoping that they would stop and listen, but the combination of the whacky tune she was singing with the eccentric uneasiness her performance made you feel that you want to take a note, say 'erm.. interesting', and then walk away – that is, unless you are me.

I once played in a band. Actually, I was once a member of a signed band that released an album which made it to top 100, albeit only for a week. That was about 15 years ago. After years of trying to achieve a break through based on years of hard work and grind in the underground scene, and sky high expectations and hopes and feelings of immediate and inevitable success nearing us when we got signed, and even after making our first radio appearance – everything fizzed out. No, we did not go out with a bang. Only successful bands can do that. I couldn't even say we just faded out, as that would still be a generous statement reserved for a band that at least made an impression. We were just a speck in the infinite amount of sand grains that come ashore and get washed away unnoticed with the tide – yes, we landed, once, and then disappeared without much notice. Our glory was only in our mind and it was a short lived one at that, to the extent that it was no longer a glory even to ourselves, just a blip in the youthful days of the past that we don't even bring up over casual conversations anymore, if anything, the waste of time and energy it ended up being made me feel like I almost don't want to tell people I was once in a band – and failed – in a way that people don't talk about enrolling an university degree course that they failed to graduate from.

So what did I, an ex-drummer of a failed band who's on-going musical activity was confined in his small bedroom, see in this girl?

She had everything I once wanted to be as a thirteen-year-old who bought his first electric guitar - she was a rock star.

I felt it in my instincts (not that I have good ones but still) that she was not a star in the making, but she already had all the qualities of a rock star and was oozing with personality and passion. All she was missing was actual stage and fans.

I was the only one standing there for more than a moment and actually listened through a whole song. It was not a good song by any standard. She was not a good guitarist. She was not a good singer, yet, she was a great performer and her screaming voice resonated in my hollow body where the last trace of rock spirit has deserted at least a decade ago. I had a full time office job, was a bread earner for the family and dabbled with music every now and then at late night with my headphones on when wife and the kid had gone to sleep. If I could rewind my time about twenty fives years I would have loved to play with her together in a band having her as the lead singer. If she fronted our band in our TV debut there was no way we would have gone unnoticed. We might have still failed commercially, but we would have been noticed.

"Thank you"

That broke me out of my trance like state as she finished her song and spoke to me. Just as her singing, her voice was clear yet coarse.

"You were great. Excellent actually."

"Gees, thanks", she beamed an unembarrassed smile.

"You need new strings, right? I see you broke the E string in the end."

"Yeah. Cool that you noticed."

"Come with me, I will buy you a new set of strings."

She looked at me suspiciously, oh, that didn't come out well.

"erm… you could just throw in a fiver or something…?", she pointed at a little tin she had set up in front of her, which obviously didn't have much coins in.

"Right. Sorry, I'll say it more directly – I want to talk to you for a bit."

"We can talk now. You don't have to buy me strings for that. I don't ask to be paid for talking."

"Have you eaten? I will buy you lunch."

"Hey Mister, sorry I have a boyfriend and I'm not interested."

"No no, you are getting me wrong. I just wanted some time to sit down and talk to you somewhere quiet."

"That sounds dodgy as fuck."

Shit. How do I, an almost 40 years old man in suits, ask a teenage girl on the street that I've just met to come with me for a little sit down and chat, without sounding like a suspicious creep.

"I noticed you don't have an amp. Look, come with me and I will buy you an amp."

"That sounds even dodgier. I don't need a sugar daddy – bye."

Then the girl just picked up the tin can and started to walk away, carrying her un-cased bare guitar on her back by strap.

"Look – it's not what you think, please hear me out", in a rash move from a slight panic, I chased after her and grabbed her arm

"HEEEEEELP! A PERVERT!!!!!"

Fuck.

People started to gather around us and a bulky young man jumped out of the crowd and put me in a headlock.

"You are busted old man."

As he pinned me down on the ground I saw the girl running away from me, stopping once to turn around and flash me a birdie, only to turn back and disappear into the crowd again.

Shit. I blew it.

---

It took some explaining at the police station, which was actually not as bad as I thought it could be. Of course, I could not prove or fully convince I had no mal-intentions and just wanted to talk about music with her, but by the same token they had no proof that I did any harm or was planning to. What was more tricky was convincing my boss back in the office why I have just taken three hour lunch break without reporting to him.

While I was trying to explain to all sorts of people, it became clearer to me why I actually wanted to talk to her. To be honest, it was just a very impulsive thing at the start. I had no real plan or target as in what to talk to her about. I was just captivated by her performance and felt like I wanted to talk to her – without really realizing or having in mind what to talk about in detail, it was almost like seeing your dream girl on the street and approaching her to chat up with no real plan – just because you had to, and yes, put in this way I must have looked dodgy as fuck as she called.

Now that I had more time to think about it, I realized what I wanted and it was no less crazy, but in different perspective.

I wanted to turn this girl into a rock star.