I slept straight through until the next morning. I rubbed my eyes, then got dressed and headed down the stairs. Halfway down I faced into a corner of the stairwell and undid my fly. I realised where I was just as I was about to loose a stream of piss. I clenched my penis to stifle the flow and stuffed it back in my pants. A bit dribbled down my leg, but at least I was able to contain it within my clothes.
I went back upstairs and changed into a new pair of underwear. I stopped off at the toilet on the way downstairs this time.
I stopped in the lobby to call Tony.
He answered on the third ring.
"Hello?" he said.
"Hi Tony, it's Kent," I said. "You left a message for me."
"Absolutely!" he said. "I wanted to thank you for giving me that boost of confidence the other night. You heard the truth. You can't argue with the truth."
"Indeed," I said. "What truth are we talking about exactly?"
"The truth about my music. The truth that I am a destined to be a bass player, not work in an office," said Tony.
"Ah, that truth."
"Exactly!" said Tony. "If it hadn't been for you I never would have had the courage to quit my job."
"You quit your job?"
"Yesterday. It was fantastic! They didn't even want me to serve my notice period. It's just good timing all around. My boss said he was thinking of firing me anyway. The timing couldn't have been better. Not much work at the moment, he told me. Go chase your dream!"
"Go chase your dream -- he really said that?" I asked.
"Well, not in so many words, but you taught me something the other night," said Tony. "You can either hear what people are trying to tell you, or you can hear the truth."
I covered my eyes with my forearm and leaned against the wall. "So, what now?" I asked. "You quit your job. What are you going to do? Are you going to join a band?"
"Well, I'm not exactly sure. I mean there's no rush. If it's going to happen, it's going to happen. I'm kind of grooving on the freedom," he said. "Besides, I don't have a bass yet. I found the bass I want, though. It's beautiful. It's a daphne-blue Fender Highway number one. It's beautiful."
"Sounds pricey."
"Music has no price. Tracy Davenport taught me that. It has great value, but no price. Which is a bit odd when you think about it. What I learned from my old job is that the value of something can be constant. But the price, i.e. what people are willing to pay for something, is extremely fluid. That said, you can always get someone to agree on a price for just about anything. Almost everything has a price. That's what makes music so amazing. It has no price!"
"How much is the bass," I asked.
"Just under £1300," said Tony. "Which is a problem. I've got enough money to buy the bass but that would pretty much clean me out. Food would be a problem."
"Maybe you shouldn't have quit your job quite so soon," I suggested.
"Absolutely not. It took a lot of courage to leave that job," said Tony. "You gave me the courage the other night. If I didn't do it yesterday I might never have done it. I can't thank you enough. Hey! What are you doing now? Can I buy you breakfast? Do you want to go see my bass?"
"Thanks," I said. "But I'm on my way to work."
"I thought you were off work. Broken hand, narcolepsy, etcetera."
"I'm working one-handed. It's better than nothing," I said. "Actually, Tony, do you want to come with me? It's not office work. It's good honest heavy lifting and wrench pulling. You might be able to pick up a few bucks towards your bass."
"And we could hang out together!"
"Yes, there's that," I said.
"Fantastic! I'll only do it if I can buy you breakfast," said Tony.
"All right," I said. "Meet me at Uncle Albert's."
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