Elliot: “So, you didn’t get enough of me, did ya? And here was me thinking I scared you away already. Hah!”
Female photographer: “Well, the publisher liked the article so much that they want to do another one. And they were there to see your gigs… Is it really true that you traveled over 300 miles just to play a couple of café gigs?”
Elliot: “Yes. It was about 500 kilometers, I think. I went there by bus. It took several hours to get there and then back here. But I didn’t care. It was all worth it. Like I said before, I like to have gigs in small and intimate places. The atmosphere is so… (blows smoke and looks up at the sky) electric.”
Female photographer: “What do you mean by ‘electric’?”
Elliot: “Ya know, people get together. There’s so few people there that you can see everybody from the stage. They observe you, and you can also observe each one of them. You see every movement… Hear every sound ’cause it’s quiet… Feel their presence… You will instantly know if they do or don’t like you. You’re just… so there.”
Female photographer: “Don’t you think you would get that feeling if you were to perform for a bigger audience? I mean: cafés can’t be your ideal concert places, right?”
Elliot: “Actually, they ARE. And small clubs. And no, I can’t see myself perform at a stadium, if that’s what you mean. It wouldn’t be the same. Never. Never. Never!”
Female photographer: “Oh…”
Elliot: “I’m too shy for that… I’m not gonna be anything… big. I’m Mr. Nobody, me, and I’m perfectly fine that way. I just do music ’cause I like it, and art is the only field I’m somewhat decent in.”
Female photographer: “I’m sure you could do something else, too, if you wanted to…”
Elliot: “No, no. And please don’t start with the ‘you’re so pessimistic again’ crap. I’ve heard enough of that. There’s a fine line between realism and idealism. I go for the former.”
Elliot: (starts picking his guitar) “Hmmmm… (cough, cough!)”
Female photographer: “In that case, don’t you think you should quit smoking? Let’s be honest: it is not a good habit for a singer to have.”
Elliot: “Okay, firstly: you’re starting to sound like those record company people who ditched me after making too many promises. Secondly: smoking is my last ‘bad habit’, and I can’t get rid of them all at once. I used to have some real problems. Smoking wasn’t one of them.”
Elliot: “Since you are so concerned about my well-being and follow me in the woods, which I dare say sounds a lil’ bit creepy… You might as well come up here, too. My STALKER!”
Female photographer: “Um, no thank you! And it was YOU who looked me up in this town, remember? It was you who moved here after me! You are in no position to talk to me that way about motives for following somebody.”
Elliot: “Yeaaah… Only ’cause I was so lonely… Hey, that rhymes! Seriously though, I was f*cked up for so long. I needed to start over, and what’s a better place for doing that in than a town where you know at least one person?”
Female photographer: “Oh, I’m so totally going to believe that. Sarcastically speaking.”
Elliot: “Haha! Well, you could have slammed the door closed in front of… Yikes!”
Female photographer: “CAREFUL!”
Elliot: “Phew! Got the balance back just in time. (changes into a high voice) ‘Look, mama, no hands! I’m the king of the world!’”
Female photographer: “Geez…”
*Thud*
Elliot: “Ouch! I-I-I…”
Female photographer: “Jesus Christ! Are you okay?!”
Elliot: “Yeah… I was just gonna say that smoking ain’t gonna be the thing that someday kills me… Ehe-he…”
Female photographer: “And it was supposed to be your last bad habit! Yeah, right. Totally believable. Why do you always have to talk about life in the most profound way and then do something really stupid right after?”
Elliot: “I guess my sanity and insanity are so well balanced. One of them must quickly follow the other. Hah! Have a little sympathy, my lil’ stalker. I could have broken some strings! Thank God I landed on my back and not on my face. All is well in the kingdom!”
Female photographer: “Yes, the guitar is the most important thing here. I forgot.”
Elliot: “Hell yeah! I can’t afford new strings right now. And Lissie could have had her neck broken, or worse!”
Female photographer: “You have a long history with it… I mean her, right?”
Elliot: “Lissie the guitar was my first girlfriend from high school times, and the relationship is still as strong as ever.”
Later at Elliot’s…
Elliot: “Um, I gotta admit being a little surprised that you wanted to take some ‘glamour shots’ at the end of the day… What kinda magazine are these going to, again?”
Female photographer: “Ahem. Yeah, that was a spur of the moment thing. All musicians do them. They are just for a music paper – the same as the rest of the pictures. Just tell me if you’re uncomfortable, and we’ll stop right away.”
Elliot: “Nah, I could quite get used to posing… like this! But just that we’re on the same page: I won’t do nude photos. Not now, not ever. Not for you or anybody else. Got it?”
Female photographer: “I would never ask you for that! That’s not what I do in general, either.”
Elliot (in a low and quiet voice): “Good. But… I can do more poses and let you finish your lil’ stalking gig with style if you turn off the camera. I’m a private person like that, honey.”
Female photographer: “Um, that’s not necessary either. I’m kind of going somewhere in a minute.”
Elliot (deep sigh): “Next time, then.”
To be continued…
