Cadillac Couches Read Online Free PDF Page A

instantly gotten better— flirting more potent than beer , I scribbled in my notebook.
    Stuffing a couple doughnuts in my mouth, I glimpsed the Coordinator Girl checking us out with a look on her face that could mean we were busted.
    â€œSo what were we talking about?” Isobel asked.
    â€œYou know, folk music thriving in an increasingly electronic age,” Finn said.
    â€œOh, that’s tedious. Let’s get to the more interesting stuff, like . . . I don’t know . . . what kind of underwear do you prefer wearing?” Isobel said, laughing at her own humour.
    â€œWell that depends. Mostly boxers, cotton ones. But I hate to say it, lately I’ve been going through a commando phase, particularly in the warmer months. But then . . .”
    â€œRight, right, that’s great. But uh, Isobel, we do have to give Tilt what they want, it’s a mag for techies after all.” Finn was a little red in the face.
    â€œYes, yes, sorry. Finn can’t write a story about underwear. Mind you, I think somebody should write something about thongs, they are truly absurd.” Isobel laughed some more. I was in awe of her boldness. “Why don’t you tell us some stories about being on the road. What’s it like being a rock star? What kind of gossip do you got?” she asked in a mock Barbara Walters tone.
    Dan smiled coyly at Isobel. She always knew how to play it right.
    â€œI don’t got a lot of gossip. I’m a guy, for freakin’ sakes. We don’t talk about shit. We grunt. We watch sports. We talk sports. Sometimes we talk about chicks, but it’s kind of like talking about cars. I hate to tell y’all, but the stereotypes are true.”
    â€œThere’s no myth more appealing to girls than a bad-ass with a golden heart. I don’t believe what they say about musicians—you can’t tell me they’re all cheating, lying sons-o-bitches. How could they sing all those love songs then?” This was a subject so close to my heart, it was practically sitting on it. Finn, Isobel, and Dan Bern looked at me like I was on drugs.
    â€œLook, I just started playing music so I could score some chicks! I’m sorry—it’s true, and almost every other guy musician I know is the same,” Dan said.
    It was a good time to get more beer. Even if I wasn’t doing so well as an interviewer, the most important thing was that our Subject was warming up, loosening. I walked over to the beer pourers. From the lineup, I could see the back of the Coordinator Girl’s purple tie-dyed T-shirt. She was talking to one of those crew people with the shirts that read: SECURITY . He turned around to look at our gang. I steered myself and the beer quickly back to the table. Surely they wouldn’t interrupt us mid-interview.
    When I got back to the table, I topped up everyone’s beer and then circled the table, pretending to take some arty pictures. At one point, I squatted and realized I was actually aiming the camera at Dan’s thighs, which looked pretty luscious at that angle. I snapped the picture quickly, feeling a little self-loathing over objectifying the guy.
    I got up to take some less demeaning shots. As I clicked away, it seemed like the rapport at the table was growing.
    But the Coordinator Girl was holding her position.
    â€œHow do you make that eeenn eeen waaah noise?” Finn asked while air-guitaring.
    â€œFunny you should notice that, that’s a new technique I’m working on. It’s kind of like a combo slide/hammer pluck,” Dan said, demonstrating with his fingers on his own air guitar.
    Isobel took hold of the conversation again: “How long have you been playing?”
    â€œI’ve been playing since . . . I play all the time, since I was a little kid, thank God I didn’t forget how. Do you play?” Dan asked Isobel.
    She shook her head no. Dan continued,