God it's been quiet here, eh? I know I know, don't judge my laziness :D
Anyways... I was visitin my old home town Kathmandu and I happened to fall in love with Billy Joel's Piano Man again after many years, thanks to my cousin. I also found out that my lovely girlfriend likes it also alot :D Because I love all the characters in the song I decided to write a litte tribute to it. And here you have another Stories from the Mute story with title that took a lot of effort to come up with. Seriously.
A Stories from the Mute story Piano Man
Written by Wille Holopainen
-
I’m
walking down the street that I know way too well. How do I always end up doing
this stuff? Well who knows? It’s a street I’ve walked hundreds of times, on
hundreds of Saturdays. It’s nine o’clock and I finally get to the door of my
regular bar, where the regular crowd shuffles in and I seem to blend into it.
It seems like no one cares about anything, they just walk straight to the
counter and order a drink. I’m just getting ready to start and I look around.
There’s an old man sitting right next to me, making love to his tonic and gin.
I move over to my piano and just as I’m about to start playing a semi-cheerful
song the old man look aver and says: “Son, can you play me a memory. I’m not
really sure how it goes though… but at least I know it’s sad and it’s sweet!
And oh, I knew it complete when I was wearing a younger man’s clothes…” I
played him something along those lines and then continued to my regular set.
I
look over my piano and again I see many stories. As my eyes observe the smoky
old bar they come to stop at the counter, where there sits a young pretty girl,
drinking her rum and coke, but my eyes are not looking at her. They’re looking
over her head, where the bartender is cleaning a glass with a towel that makes
it even worse. He’s John. John is a friend of mine and he gets me my drinks for
free. Oh John… he’s quick with the joke or to light up your smoke, yet there is
a place that he’d rather be. I stop for a while and go to have a good old
chitchat with John. He says: “Bill I believe this is killing me. My condition
is just going down all the time. The doctor said I could work only twice a
week, no more. If I were feeling better… I know I could be even a fucking movie
star, just if I could get out of this goddamn place. Well, I guess you know how
I feel. I wonder how you end up here every damn Saturday” And what do I say to
that? “So do I John, so do I”
As
I go back behind my piano, I see Paul sitting in the booth with his grey suit
on. Paul is a real-estate novelist who unfortunately never had time for a wife.
He’s talking with a guy who has a huge build. The guy’s called Davy and that
old bollocks is still in the navy. And probably will be for life. He has always
sat in the same booth every Saturday after coming from visiting his mom. Him
and Paul are pretty damn smashed, although it’s not even past ten yet.
I’m
trying to get eye contact with the waitress ‘cause I want some water, but she’s
just studying politics for her final exams. Next to her a businessman is slowly
getting stoned. The old bastard is smoking a huge ass cigar and drinking
scotch.
All
the people in this old smelly place that can be barely called a bar are sharing
a drink. It’s a drink they call loneliness. But I guess it’s better than
drinking alone. All these people who seem to be the lowest sad sags of our
social system are actually not. I see a judge of the high court, the chief of
NYPD and at least two big corporate hot shots. Another living example to
support the old saying “Don’t judge a book by its cover”.
It’s
a pretty damn good crowd for a Saturday and the greedy idiot manager gives me a
smile ‘cause he knows that it’s me all the people have come to see just to
forget about their stressful or otherwise dull lives for a while.
I
have a long break and gallop a beer or seven and it’s silent except for the
sounds coming from the kitchen, which can not be told apart from the toilet,
and Paul’s and Navy-Davy’s chatting. All of a sudden a drunken high court judge
stands up and shouts from the top of his lungs: “Hey! You’re the piano man!
Sing us a song, since we’re all in the mood for a melody!” and another drunken
customer adds: “And you got us feeling pretty motherfucking all right!” What
can I say to this? Absolutely nothing. All I can do is to get up and totter
over to my piano and start playing. I’m a wee bit drunk at this point, yet I
play perfectly. The piano sounds like a freaking carnival and the microphone
smells like beer, which isn’t such a bad thing.
Pair
of important looking men all suited up and bit tipsy sits at the bar. Then they
walk up to my piano and put bread and a business card in my jar. Then they say:
“Man, what are you doing here?”
Later
I take a look at the card and see that these men were talent scouts for a huge
label. On the other side of the card they had written: “Give us a call and
we’ll get you deal”. I look at the card for a while. Then I call up John and
ask if I could use the telephone in the kitchen/toilet. I pick up the earpiece
and start dialing the number on the card. I hear a click at the other end and I
wait. “Stardust Records, how may I help you?” says a pretty female voice. “I
need to discuss about a deal with Mr.… Umm… Jeffery”. “By all means, just a
second”. I wait for a minute and then another click reaches my ear. “Who’s
this?” the man at the other end asks. I wait for few seconds and then I make
one of the greatest decisions of my life. I take a deep breath and utter few
drunken words that would end up being the most important words of my life and I
will remember this moment forever. “This is the piano man from Sam’s Pub. Fuck
you and next time you see me stick your business card up your hairy ass, you
smell like shit. Thanks.” Then I hang up and drop the receiver and rip the business
card into small pieces and throw them to what I think is a toilet. Then I get
back to the bar and sit behind the piano I love so much and take a look around
and start playing. This is the place I belong to, this is the place that doesn’t
give a shit about our social status, this is the place where we share our drink
of loneliness and this is the place where I can honestly say I feel like home.
This is Sam’s.
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