High and Driving: Introduction and Testomonies (1)

We cruise through the night, the music coming through the stereo fits perfectly to the scenery. Nick stirs somewhere in the back. I don’t know if it’s him for sure, but his messy head of brown hair pops up by my seat. He’s saying something I can’t exactly understand, so I smile and nod. Nick’s always been there for me, at least since I’ve moved to LA. He’s only a year older than me, but he feels like one of those cool uncles that will take you to get your first tattoo. Now Nick turns to Ruben, sticking his hand out and pointing to a building in the distance.

“Ihop! Pull over, NOW!” he shouts out of excitement and need. We’re all hungry, all the time, and breakfast food at night is our favorite.

Ruben swerves, the highway trance broken by Nick’s cry out. We slow, then make the turn.
It takes a couple moments for everyone to wake. Dave gets out and stretches, Chet’s cranky, but lightens up and starts talking about how he’s going to fill himself with ‘pork dicks and strawberry crepes’. Ruben cracks a joke and no one laughs. I give him a side grin and laugh slightly out of sympathy before opening the door and getting out. Poor kid, he’s the newbie and the youngest. No one really gives him too much respect.

“God damn, my heart’s still beating fast.” Ruben says, resting his hand on his chest to feel his pulse.

“Sorry about that dude. I hope makes me go crazy.” Nick shrugs, giving him a hefty slap on the back. Nic’s tall and built, often times he doesn’t even know his own strength.

There’s hardly anyone in the restraint so we’re seated quickly. I can’t decide between pancakes or an omelet, so I search for inspiration around the dining area. If you know me, you know I can never decide. Some chick in another booth with a group of her friends is checking us out, probably because we look like a mess. Dave’s normally short cut black hair has grown out, reaching down his forehead and touching his green eyes. Somehow he and Ruben are clean faced, though Ruben can’t grow hair on his face, so that doesn’t surprise me. Chet’s mohawk is a sloppy mess on the top of his head. His appearance doesn’t fit the band’s, but we all get along. Nick’s always had a beard, but his hair is a disaster, and I haven’t looked in the mirror for a while, but I know my hair is the same because I have to move it out of my face all the time. I bet there are deep bags under my baby blue eyes and my stubbles grown out, too.

The girl gets up and the other at chicks at her table are snickering, but the guys don’t seem amused. She slides right in next to me, a grin spreads across her face as everyone stops what they’re doing, which was either shooting spit balls at each other or looking at the menu.

“Hi, I’m Nina,” she says. “I love your music.” She plays it cool. We don’t get recognized outside of concerts much, so this is a bit of a treat.

“Ruben,” he introduces himself. The kid’s a flirt, like I used to be. I’d like to know what cause me to change, but nothing comes to mind.

The two talk back and forth, but I’m busy fighting over pancakes or omelet to listen. Everyone else resumes what they’re doing. The waitress comes and asks for our order. When she reaches me, I freeze for a moment.

“Omelet, veggie.” I blurt out, not exactly deciding that, but it just came out.

“Are you a veg head?” Nina asks, turning her attention to me. Ruben looks defeated.

“Yeah,” I reply, the waitress leaves.

“For the animals?” she asks. She looks like one of those PETA people with black plastic square rimmed glasses and dyed black hair that’s cut to frame her face.

“No, to deal with commitment issues,” I explain with a slight laugh. I’m never talkative after being stuck in the van for a long time.

“Well, I’m Vegan. If you want to talk about commitment, you should try that,” She said with a slight smile.

“I’m dealing with my issues, not trying to create more.” I smiled back. Thing is, before I was in Roshambo, I had about 5 other bands that were ongoing projects. There were two in high school, one and a half when I got to LA, another half which was my solo stuff, and then there was Roshambo. Roshambo has definitely lasted the longest.

Nick gave me a kick from under the table, his face showing that ‘watch your manners’ look I’ve gotten so many times from him. Nina’s eyes traced between ours though, interfering in our brainwave.

“Really, it’s okay. How long have you guys been on the road?” She asked.

I looked back at her table where everyone was packing up to go. “Uh, they’re all leaving.” I pointed out, ignoring her question.

She looked back with her deep green eyes that seemed almost marshy. “It’s fine. I took a separate car and can catch up later.”