“Yes, if you’re up for it,” Socks said, and I heard the crumpling noises of paper as he pulled out his notes. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking we could play the Toe. I was talking to Robbie — the promoter with the radio show?”
“Right.” I remembered two things about Robbie — one was that he was the only one who had clapped after our first song during that first show with Heathenistic Bile. The second was that I had felt bad for him, having heard all the stories of the money he’d lost booking metal shows.
“Well, he was saying he’d help us out. He says he’ll rent out the Toe for us, and give us an interview on his show.”
“Cool.”
“Totally!” Socks continued. “I was thinking we could get Torn Bowel to play with us. I’ve kept in touch with PJ — he said they’d love to do another show with us.”
“Okay,” I agreed. I remembered their guitarist, Jamie, and how he’d totally stopped flirting with me after I puked on that asshole.
“So we’ll have the guy from Recordead come out to that show. Robbie thinks we can get something awesome together. He thinks it’ll be a great night.” I was quiet, grateful for Socks. The guy was basically managing us. “He says he’s had a lot of interest in the band on his radio show. People calling in, talking about the U.K. tour, the interview you did in Blood Sledge. He gets a lot of requests.”
I agreed to do a telephone interview with Robbie that Saturday night in anticipation of a show at the Toe in St. Charles the following Friday night. Socks confirmed that Torn Bowel would do the show. I didn’t hear anything from Fern — which wasn’t unusual nowadays — but Edgar had spoken to her, and we decided to have a rehearsal in Socks’s basement the night before the show.
xXx
“So we’re live on air right now with Rachel from Colostomy Hag,” Robbie said over the phone. I wasn’t allowed to have the radio on, so this didn’t feel like a broadcast of any sort to me. Of course, I wasn’t even sure anyone would be listening in the first place — Robbie’s show was on at 1 a.m. once a week for an hour on Saturday nights. This just felt like a silly phone call.
“How are you tonight, Rachel?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Just back from your U.K. tour with Goreceps, right?”
“A few weeks back, yes.”
“Awesome. I have to say it’s sort of an honour to have you on the line right now. Colostomy Hag is getting an amazing reputation,” he said.
“Er, that’s nice of you.”
“So how was the tour?”
I talked for a minute or so about the Flesh for Lunch tour, how cool Goreceps had been to us, despite our limited amount of socializing with them, and what an interesting experience it had been to go overseas and have people know our music. “That was really cool. I’m still not sure what to think of that, it seems so impossible.”
“Do you find that the pressure is on you now, somewhat? You’ve had a few incidents at your shows — notably, of course, when you threw up on that guy in Port Claim, and now having humiliated a heckler and having had him thrown out of the venue. Do people expect some kind of crazy behaviour from you?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Do you find it difficult to be a woman in a metal band?”
“Sometimes it’s frustrating. Me and Fern, who plays guitar, get shit sometimes when we’re playing. There are a lot of guys who aren’t into respecting girls in bands. Or just generally.”
“Before this interview we were playing some DED,” Robbie said. “I’m sure it goes without saying that you guys are fans. Did you get a chance to catch their show when they came through a while back?”
It felt like a giant tennis ball had appeared in my throat. My head started pounding and I fought to remain calm. “Oh yes, it goes without saying, huge fans.”
“They put on a great show,” Robbie said.
“Amazing,” I said. My vision blurred and went black, even though my eyes were wide open and unblinking.
“And what nice guys, too. I didn’t have a chance to get them on the show, but they’re great to their fans. Have you had the chance to meet them?”