A hit of random music

dog was sniffing around the alley. Not just any dog either. With rough, knotted fur, strangely odd coloured eyes (Dan never did like that in a dog), this dog left you with a feeling that it ran the streets. Dan looked at it and wondered if it had an owner. There was no collar about it’s neck, so he guessed not. Like him, the dog was probably homeless. But unlike him, the dog had probably adapted to be a scavenger of the city, having no problems with the cold wet nights, or eating the half eaten burger that had been dropped on the floor and puked on after a weekend. Dan however couldn’t bring himself to do that, and took pride that he would only ever pick food out of the bins. The dog cocked a leg up and began to urinate at the far side of the alley, before spending a few minutes attempting to sniff it’s own arse. After spinning around it eventually got tired, confused and sat down.

Ahh, thought Dan, the simple pleasures in life, if only my world could be as care free. I think I’ll call you ‘Ignorance’.

Naming a pet after it’s personality traits was a favourite for Dan. He once had a dog called ‘Sheepish’, and a hamster called ‘Hidden’. It was of his opinion that a name should go some way to describing the person, pet or thing in question.

"Ignorance! Here boy" he called, with a general uncertainty as to whether is was actually a boy or not.

Instantly the hound’s ears shot up and looked over expectantly. The four legged creature stood up and began to walk over to the corner that Dan was sat in, yet it froze about two metres away. Ignorance simply stared at Dan, it was a big dog by most accounts, and from Dan’s perspective on the floor, the beast seemed even bigger. Just then there was a moment between those two. A moment of mutual respect. They understood each other, both creatures living on the street, shunned from the realities of a hash and cruel society. Dan gave Ignorance a nod and a smile. Ignorance began to snarl, then growl. Drool proceeded to dribble from between his large yellow teeth, his eyes narrowed and back arched up.

Crap, maybe he doesn’t like the name. thought Dan

"Look, sorry boy, I’ll call you whatever you want" pleaded Dan. But Ignorance had a look of determination in his eyes. The mongrel began to pace towards Dan, getting ready to pounce.

It stopped however, around a metre away, and suddenly looked a little puzzled.

It’s working thought Dan, I just need to think of another name that it’ll like ….

The reason for Ignorance’s pause soon became apparent. It took a few sniffs, followed by a much deeper one, and promptly began to choke, splutter and gag. Ignorance turned and ran. Dan was offended. But then he looked at himself and realised that his hair was saturated in cats urine, his coat covered in puke and rotting fish guts were smeared halfway up his legs. Coupled with the fact that he hadn’t showered or changed in about a week and Dan realised he would run away from himself if he could.

Glasgow had done him no favours in the six months or so that he had been here. The plan, long before his Karaoke days, was to move up here and start a new life. In some ways he had. His current life certainly not being one he had experienced before. It just definitely wasn’t the life he had planned. Life guarding the beaches of Cornwall wasn’t interesting to him anymore, and Dan went looking for a new challenge. Believe it or not, he wanted a nice stable office job. He hated sand, hated the weather, and couldn’t stand being outside. A job with a bit of computing, perhaps. With training potentials, and air conditioning. Something boring, yet strangely satisfying to the right person. Dan wanted to be that right person, and that was his mission as he moved up.

But the actual move could not have come at a worse time ….

His discovery, at the end of his Cornwall life, that he was dependent enough to take karaoke sober left him feeling very uncertain about where his next fix might come from. Changing your location meant he would need to find a new source, attempt to establish himself and get a regular supply. With a new group of friends, however, and an entire cities worth of karaoke pubs, he just no longer knew where he would find his next good, clean hit.

Finding his next hit wasn’t even the first problem Dan had came up against, Oh, no. Despite having built his need up so strongly as to be able to take karaoke sober, he had arrived in a new city, and didn’t yet have the confidence to enter a seedy Glasgow pub alone to claim his fix. It was one of the reasons that Dan had become hooked on karaoke in the first place partially because he was inherently a shy person. Singing is a way to break out of that shyness, exude confidence on a level that most people wouldn’t even dare, and that made the buzz even greater. But walking into a gritty bar on his own… all he could imagine was an ‘Old West’ style entrance, where the piano stops playing, drinks clink back onto counters and everyone turns around to eye up the scrawny looking stranger. Dan wasn’t ready for that yet, and that just made him even more desperate. There was no other choice but to somehow convince his new friends that karaoke was a good idea. That it wasn’t addictive, wasn’t a source of evil, pain and suffering in the world, and that they would be able to have a good time. This was a task that proved easier than he first thought. Easy at least, when applied with a simple strategy. Prey on the weak. Tempt those that enjoy karaoke’s lighter forms. Those that enjoyed singing in the shower or whistling (just for the fun of it) were easy to bring into the cause, and before long Dan had amassed a suitable crowd of willing friends. With such a crowd, it was only a matter of time before even reluctant friends had conceded to the peer pressure.

For that time Dan thought that it may actually work out okay. And for a while, it was good. I didn’t quite match up to the reckless debauchery of Kev’s in Cornwall, but still, his gremlin was being satisfied.

Around this time is when Dan began to feel his needs changing. He was gaining less and less pleasure from karaoke, and began to need it to simply feel normal again. As the days went by without karaoke, during the week, Dan felt himself getting progressively worse. He soon had a short temper, viscous mood swings and bouts of severe depression. He would regularly take his stress out at his work colleagues and friends. He had the shakes and couldn’t think straight. His karaoke gremlin had taken control of his life. It made decisions as to when he should take his hit and how many to take.

Dan lay in the alleyway thinking about the turning point, the moment the fun had become a need, and addiction. Back in those days, he was in denial, and now, it was too late for him to do anything about it. He really believed he could stop at any time. He could sense that it was all getting on top of him, and that the cravings were getting strong, but his gremlin clouded his thoughts, he thought he knew what he was doing.

Just a couple of months into his new life in Glasgow, and his new friends started to notice the change in him. Quite an impressive feat, based on the fact they still really didn’t know him that well. So they tried to ignore it at first, but they realised that Dan’s addiction was out of control. One by one, they stopped going to Karaoke with him. The usual excuses started at first,

"I’m having a quiet night in"
"I’ve got a bit of a headache"
"I’ve got no money"
"I’ve caught cancer"
"My dog was sick on it"
"I’ve had a frontal lobotomy"

As weeks passed, Dan began to realise that they weren’t avoiding karaoke, they were avoiding him. He really didn’t know what to think, and so went up to them and confronted them.

"We just can’t handle it anymore" they would say, in unison. This freaked Dan out a bit, and so he asked them to speak one at a time.
"Your songs have lost their edge," said one
"You seem to be releasing pent up aggression," explained the next, "you scream, you’re angry and fierce."
"It’s as if you’re going to explode if you don’t get up and sing. It’s all too much"
"We just can’t handle seeing that look of desperation in your eyes"

Fuck them, he thought I don’t need their friendship. Karaoke is my friend. It’ll keep me straight. And on that thought, Dan began to take Karaoke on his own.

Everything Dan’s friends had tried to tell him was true, however. His music had become aggressive, he was indeed venting his anger, and everyone at his local pub had began to notice it too.

It was in his local, one night, whilst taking a hit of Karaoke (as usual), that the unthinkable happened. He had already taken a couple of hits, and was halfway through his third. It was a classic death metal version of Alanis Morrisette’s ‘Ironic’. Suddenly the words on the big screen stopped changing, and the new verses were just written over the top. Soon the song became completely unreadable, completely unsingable. Dan was having a bad hit. He didn’t know what to do, and reacted in the only way he could. He started screaming even louder, making up the words. The sound system began to screech with feedback, and Dan’s world suddenly came crashing down around him. There was an explosive crack from the speaker, followed by sparks and smoke. The lyrics on screen became nothing more than a flickering jumble of pixels and colours.

For Dan, that was it. He was no longer in control of his actions. His gremlin had taken over. A casual observer in the pub would have described what seemed to be a red mist clouding over Dan’s eyes. There were no casual observers in the pub that night, however, most people were too stricken with fear for what was about to happen next. Dan slammed the microphone to the ground and crushed it with his foot. An almighty roar bellowed out from deep inside of him. The look on Dan’s face was that of a different man. His facial features had narrowed, as his lips curled up and eyebrows lurched down. A glint in his eyes showed he was looking for something to destroy, and he spotted the karaoke machine quickly. He didn’t even make it half way before two heavy handed men grabbed him, and thrust him through the front door and onto the pavement outside. Before Dan knew what was happening, he found himself lying face down in a drain.

"If I ever see you in here again, you’ll be thinking that a beating is a birthday gift compared to what’ll happen to you. Fuck off." Shouted the larger of the two.

Shocked and bewildered, Dan lay there for some time. It was a disaster, he had been banned from his local pub, and there was nothing that he could do about it. He had reached a new low point in his life, and had nothing else to do but to crawl home, and cry.

Dan needed Karaoke more than ever. Just one more fix. One more hit. One more song. Was that too much to ask?

The next night, he made his way out to search for a new venue. There were plenty of karaoke bars on the main road, all he had to do was find one. Anyone would do. Yet word had traveled fast, and Dan was refused entry into every pub that he could find. As the days went by, he became more and more desperate. Dan’s face had become well known, and it seemed no amount of pleading, disguise or bribery would help.

After exhausting all his known options, Dan took to exploring the back streets of Glasgow. These were the sorts of areas that any sane man, especially a non-local wouldn’t dare normally go. But desperate times and all that …

It took less time than he expected before he found an old looking dilapidated pub in a forgotten part of the city. From the outside, the pub looked uninviting. The windows had metal bars bolted across them, although they didn’t seem to make much difference, as two of the windows had been smashed and boarded up. The pub was called "The Frog & Duck", but half of the letters had faded off, leaving it saying "The F uck".

A sign outside said " Karaoke tonight", although as Dan listened in, he really couldn’t hear much happening in there. But he choice where he got his hit from, and so very cautiously he stepped inside. Entering this pub was like entering a time warp. The music abruptly stopped, and about half a dozen old men looked over to Dan. They appeared as though they had been sat in the very same locations about the bar for decades, Dan was certain that if he looked at the wooden bar stools, they would have moulded themselves to the shape of each individual’s buttocks from over use. The pub itself was small, nicotine stained yellow from many years of abuse. In each corner of the room there was a small potted plant, now dead and shriveled, as if they were some token remnant of the pub’s forgotten past. The tables looked as if they had been stolen from a local school, and came complete with graffiti on top, and quite probably a large collection of chewing gum and bogies on the underside. This was not a welcoming pub, and yet Dan’s gremlin ordered him in. his craving had to be satisfied.

After a few moments the music returned to normal, and one of the haggard looking locals began to sing. It was a kind of moaning ballad that Dan didn’t recognise. He always thought they sounded the same anyway. Rather sheepishly, he placed in a ticket with the simple words on it …

"Dan,
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds"

His desperation was practically unbearable, but he managed to restrain himself in order to avoid causing alarm. The fat bar lady looked at him and gave him the generic upward nod of the head, to ask him what he wanted. This made the extra skin on her neck ripple for a moment. Just long enough for it to be an unpleasant sight. Dan ordered a beer and sat down at the bar. The bar lady snarled at him whilst placing down the beer. At least that’s what Dan thought at the time. In fact it was her best attempt at a smile, a long forgotten emotion. You could say that Glenda had taken a shine to the new boy, and she would certainly enjoy doing herself some service that night whilst thinking about him. But Dan was blissfully unaware of this rather revolting concept, and instead felt rather intimidated by the imposing, snarling Glenda. He could feel the eyes of every man in the room staring at him. The persecution was overwhelming, and Dan knew that he would have to work hard to win this crowd over. Winning the crowd over being something he would have to do if he was ever to be welcome back into what appeared to be the last pub in Glasgow that would accept his presence.

Dan’s name was called. Unlike any other karaoke bars he had been to, this pub was so small that the entire sound system fitted into a one metre square corner of the room. He was ushered onto a bar stool, and provided with a seven inch screen to sing from. As Dan sat down, he took a few moments to notice that almost everyone in the pub, except Glenda the bar lady, had a curiously similar look about them. Bald heads dotted with scars, and a grim look that suggested that they had all but forgotten all about the wonders of the real world outside.

A small part of Dan’s head knew that what he was about to do would be a very bad idea, that some how he would regret it. It was a part of Dan’s head that he had yet to learn to listen to, and anyway, this was his last chance of a fix in the entire city. As he began to sing he felt something that he hadn’t felt since the first time he had tried it. Fear. Yet the Gremlin demanded that he sing his hit out to the bitter end… craving that buzz. As he moved through into the chorus Dan noticed that people were beginning to crack their knuckles, and shifting closer towards him. He carried on singing, there was really nothing else he could do.

Dan didn’t even make it to the second verse.

Covered in Sweat, Dan woke up with a start … had it all been a dream? Then he realised it wasn’t sweat at all, he was lying in a gutter opposite the pub, and was covered beer and blood. That was when the pain kicked in. It felt like he had been the victim of a brutal pinball machine style torture. He picked himself up and hobbled home. Battered, bruised, banned,

He had reached rock bottom.
At least, back then, he thought he had.

* * * *

Dan lay in the alley he called home, and mulled over his last thought.
Rock bottom

It’s funny how much lower you can get than you first realise, That night was only two months ago, and yet it felt like an eternity. If he thought he was at rock bottom then, then the depths he had got to now were immeasurable.

And unknown to Dan, it was going to get a whole lot worse before it got better.

Chapter 5

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