ceciliatan

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I’m not sure if Martin and Flip took it on themselves or if they were assigned to talk me down. When we got to the hotel in Indianapolis at four in the morning I was off the bus like a shot, but I didn’t make it to the elevator before they caught up with me.

“Dude, did you have dinner?” Flip was asking.

“For fuck’s sake, Flip, I…” Fuck. “I had some yogurt,” I said weakly.