James joined the neighborhood band for one reason: Chicks.
It was as simple a mission statement as he could think of. After all, it was what rock and roll was all about, right?
It didn’t bother him that the drummer was wasted and the bass player couldn’t pluck a dead chicken. No, what mattered was he looked good when they played and the girls at the club went gaga over him. At least, he thought it was him.
Then it happened. They broke up.
Now, James spent most of the day learning to play guitar, hoping another band came along.