Daisy Monroe and Jamie Delveen met at a party in the Sunset district, a party neither of them had any intention of attending when they got the invite. She thought she had to work late at her job in retail management and he thought any party in the Sunset would not be worth his time.
Jamie was at that stage in his life where appearances mattered and his image was first and foremost on his mind. He was in a rock band that had just released their first CD and was usually seen at the happening spots with a leather girl hanging on his every move. Sometimes he was with his band mates in their natty dress looking for a possible score; either a new girl or a new drug, most likely both. He was pushing thirty and in no hurry or worry about anything but his music. He planned to party 'til it was over.
Daisy was at a stage in her life where she was bored, her career bordered on the meaningless, her current boyfriend lukewarm and her mother pestering her to get her MBA or married. She was twenty-four and had no idea what to do about any of this and mostly hung around the apartment she shared with her cousin Ronnie listening to Elvis Costello records and remaking clothes bought from thrift shops all over the city. She had a vague desire to design clothing and accessories but knew she did not have the entrepreneurial drive to be the next Betsey Johnson. Meanwhile her colorful appearance was getting special attention and in this she felt a certain power. It was all she had, she thought, not much, but possibly something that could lead to something.
Jamie was at the party because the lead singer in his band, a druggie named Crater thought they could hook up early with some coke from an old school friend and go on to more interesting venues. Daisy was dragged to the party by her boyfriend Tret who worked in sales with the host. She was wearing a green felt cape with matching green stockings that had a shimmering texture. On her shoulder was a feathered replica of a parrot complete with rhinestone eyes. She was the subject of many whispered comments after arriving as she was the only person wearing a "costume," as her boyfriend so rudely pointed out. She was beginning to embarrass him with her eccentric outfits. The other women were in polo shirts and khakis or jeans--GAP khakis were THE style statement at the time, the girly revolution had not yet begun. Daisy's outfits had been getting progressively more outlandish and as he was trying to fit in with this crowd, this “yuppie contingent,” as she remarked, he wished she'd tone it down. She wished she didn't have to go to such tedious parties and began smoking pot when it was handed to her from the only guy in the place who looked even vaguely interesting, desperate to alleviate the boredom.
She was ripe for the attention of Jamie Delveen who was also bored out of his mind and figured Daisy was the only person there he could talk to though he had no idea what she was about. He'd once had a pet parrot and that became his opening line. She said she was allergic to animals but liked them as decorative objects. She opened her cape and showed him a large spider broach she had made out of glass beads and silver wire. He said it was cool so she gave it to him. “I must be high,” she said giggling. “It took me all day to make it.” He must have been pretty high to wear it on his military coat, he thought but something about this gift caused him to smile. She had a way of looking right into his face that was disarming.
"So who are you here with?" he asked.
"My boyfriend. What about you?"
"My mate. We're only staying an hour and cutting out."
"Better places, hey?"
"Any place would be better than this party of stiffs."
She laughed, a taut little laugh that renewed him. "I thought it was me," she said.
"No, this is definitely dead on arrival."
"So why are you here?"
"That shall remain private. What about you?"
"Tret works with Duane."
"Ugh. Working is bad enough but to work with that guy must be the height of stupidity."
"You don't work I take it?"
"Not since the record came out. By the way, I'm Jamie.”
"Ah, a record. What group are you in?"
"We're called Shakedown. Ever heard of us?"
"Not really. Where do you play?"
"Mostly small places in North Beach or the Mission."
"Maybe I'll check you out some night. When is your next gig?”
"Tuesday night. Give me your name and I'll put you on the list."
"Thanks but Tret won't want to go out on a Tuesday night."
"Ditch him. Come alone or with a friend."
"Well...okay. Maybe my roommate would like to go. She's into punk rock, grunge rock, alternative, whatever you call it."
"Not you?"
"Not really..." She was getting high from the joint and something made her stare into this guy's left eye which seemed to be higher than the right eye. Incongruous. But captivating. She decided she might like to see his band. It was only later that night that she realized she didn't ask him what he played. But that could be a surprise for Tuesday night. Ronnie would surely want to go and they would be on the list. Whatever that was.
Tret accused her of flirting with "that seedy looking poseur" but she knew he was just trying to pick a fight because he hated her outfit and she didn't try to fit in. She countered back accusing him of schmoozing all night and ignoring her. He glared at her in the cab on the way home and she sulked in the far corner of the seat. She went to his apartment but they went to bed with grudging condescension, he was drunk and she was so stoned she couldn't remember the band guy's name, the name of the group or if he hung around longer than his band mate wanted to because of her or because he couldn't get the coke he was anticipating. She didn't even really know what coke was; that is, what it was supposed to do. She’d had a sheltered life with overprotective parents in San Mateo. She kept thinking he was drinking rum and coke and they'd run out of Coca Cola which he found hysterical. She knew she was out of it and for a moment blushed when they laughed at her. Marijuana went to her head fast and stayed there. She tried it at college, everyone did but it held no lasting appeal. Sometimes she'd take one of her mother's Valiums for cramps. Mostly she liked making things but no one had ever encouraged her in this pursuit. Her degree was in marketing and sales.
Jamie never met a drug he didn't like. He started in high school and was still going strong with all of it. He liked alcohol too, single malt scotch and fine brandy but was not adverse to cheap vodka if that was what was available. He didn't care what it did to him; he didn't care about anything but playing the guitar and getting high. He used to want to be a painter in his callow youth but gave that up for lack of excitement. Music is where he got to party and receive accolades for doing very little. To make it in music was a dream world and this was one dream he wasn't about to forfeit despite his father's insistence on getting a job. That was the last thing he planned to do. Be a wage slave like him, no thanks. He'd rather die at forty than be what his father was; a hospital administrator. How dull could you get? His best friend's father was a vintner. Now that might be a job a guy could wake up to each day. Anything else failed to earn Jamie's enthusiasm. But he would soon be famous anyway so it was all beside the point. He smoked a joint while musing on this and the other things that passed through his stoner brain and for minute remembered the girl in the green cape who gave him the spider pin. So goofy he thought to himself as he looked at the pin that had not held up particularly well over the course of the previous night. The legs were splayed in different directions and he laughed at the contortions of it. He wondered if he should call her. She was a good kid, he thought. Daft, maybe but then that is usually the best kind of girl. He wondered what she was doing with such a stiff for a boyfriend with his pressed pants and turned up collar. Well, maybe he would call her just to give her a thrill. A girl had to want to get away from that guy and his boring workplace parties.
Daisy wasn't surprised when Jamie called her although she didn't know who he was at first. She admitted she didn't remember his name but yes, she remembered him. He told her he expected her at the gig and was putting her on the list and wanted to know the name of her friend. He assumed she'd be overjoyed: Everyone wanted to get into shows for free. She admitted that she didn't remember the band's name either but that her cousin would really like to go.
"Great then, come to the back door and I'll see you around ten," he said.
"Yeah, sounds like fun," she added gamely not knowing if it really would be. She pictured a sleazy club in a dark alley with a menacing doorman. She wondered why she was so timid. Ronnie consorted with rock guys all the time but whenever she brought one home, Daisy was sort of disgusted with the rude manners, dopey talk and dirty clothes and hair. Well, Jamie was cute and seemed to have a few brain cells left. He said he went to the Academy of Art for a year. She had always wanted to go there but got a scholarship to San Francisco State. She spent the rest of that Sunday afternoon planning what she would wear. She would have to put together something especially radical for this show. She would not be amongst polo shirts and sport jackets and this realization gave her no end of wild imaginings. She worked long into the night and was tired and vacant the next day at work. She would rest up for tomorrow night she thought and on her lunch hour, bought some new makeup to go with her outfit.
Jamie had been going out with a girl named Jenny Lee but was in the process of dropping her and he specifically did not tell her about the gig Tuesday night hoping she wouldn't hear about it though really, the band needed a big crowd. They would not be booked again if they couldn't fill the place. She would bring an entourage for sure so Jamie was in a muddle about whether to call her. The girl in the green cape had intrigued him and he had been thinking of her since Saturday night. The one irritating thing about being in a band was the chicks: you went with them once and they felt they owned you and were a part of your scene. There was always trouble with one of them, if not someone he went out with, someone Phil brought home. Phil was the bass player and had a string of girls that was as constant as it was hellish. The dressing room was always filled with tension of some type and Jamie wondered if this was normal for a band and decided it surely had to be: Girls were so overwrought and strange. Why couldn't they just get along? Why did everything have to be such a big deal? Well, Jenny would have to learn band rules and this new girl would have to be taken care of tonight. After that, who knew?
Daisy and Ronnie were in full tilt dress rehearsal for their night out. Daisy had made a black Lycra bodysuit that ended mid-thigh. Below were net stockings in a spider web pattern. She planned to wear a beret with a black feathered blackbird draping the front. She loved birds and bugs. She was in all black, as was Ronnie who kept it simple with a leather jacket, black jeans and cowboy boots. Ronnie liked clothes that were a uniform; Daisy liked the outlandish and the creative. Both wore a lot of makeup, false eyelashes and big hair. Both complimented the other and drank a couple of wine coolers to get them in the mood. Tret called just before they left and Daisy was vague and pleaded exhaustion. Tret let her go, not really all that interested in her exhaustion and various ills. She was becoming a drag, he thought. He thought her cousin Ronnie loopy and unattractive. Too masculine, he always said.
Jamie was in the dressing room having left word to let the girls in when they arrived. He was prepared to show Daisy a good time; he hoped to impress her with his musicianship, stage personae and rebel stance. He was certain Jenny Lee would show up but was prepared to handle her. He'd pass her off on Sammy the drummer and let it go. She wouldn't care: she just wanted a good time and free drinks. Sammy and Jenny. Yeah, that fits.
Daisy and Ronnie arrived precisely at ten though the doorman gave them trouble, asking them their age, who they wanted to see and other questions none of his business, Daisy thought but wasn't sure. Ronnie stood up to him and he backed down. He was about to let them in when another group of girls arrived answering the questions pretty much the way Daisy did. They said they were there to see Jamie of Snake Attack and yes, they were old enough, no they didn't have any drugs or knives on them and yes he was expecting them. Daisy for a moment thought she had been put on and did not like the feeling. That he had asked another girl was a jolt. She thought he liked her and tonight was something special. She felt naïve and foolish. The other girl named Jenny Lee seemed much more sure of herself and wasn't about to let some doorman wear her down. She seemed to have a stronger connection and wasn't afraid to show it. There was an awkward moment when they both showed up in the dressing room at the same time. Jamie's eyes looked shifty. Phil was slamming beer and the drummer was asleep on the couch. Jamie exemplified cool in his black leather trousers and unbuttoned shirt. Ronnie detected eye makeup and whispered something meant to be funny in Daisy's ear. Daisy was unsure what to do or how to handle the uncomfortable scene. Jamie did not display any special gallantry when Jenny Lee went up and kissed him on the lips; he sort of backed away and looked skewered. He wanted Sammy to help him but Sammy was out cold. Daisy wondered how he would play the drums in this state. He was wearing a torn Ramones t-shirt and looked like hell. Obviously Jamie was the pretty boy in this band, the one the girls went for.
Jamie was genuinely happy to see that Daisy came, happy to see she brought another girl, not that they needed any more but you never know…the more the merrier once the lights went up.
“Hey Daisy,” he said walking toward her. “Glad you could make it. You look great, where do you get these clothes? I should have you make some stage gear for me.”
“Sure, that would be fun.” She felt a little out of place not knowing what she was supposed to do. Ronnie was already smoking a joint with the bass player and Jenny Lee and her entourage were skulking around, passing joints, pouring drinks and giggling at anything anyone said.
“Don’t mind those girls,” said Jamie. “They’re just a part of the scene. Jenny Lee has her own band now. You’re with me tonight. What’s your friend’s name again?”
“Ronnie. Hey Ron, come and meet Jamie.” Ronnie, always pleased to meet such a good-looking guy shook his hand.
“Hey Ronnie, nice to meet you. I thought Ronnie was a guy and was going to be a little jealous. Glad you're a chick.”
“Yeah, me too,” she said and laughed though Daisy thought it was not the most articulate line she’d ever heard.
“Well, make yourselves at home, gals. I’ve got to do a quick sound check and mousse my hair but you’ve got the run of the place so have fun. I’ll see you after the show Daisy.”
“Thanks. Should we come back here?”
“You can, or I’ll find you out front. There’s another band after us so we’ll be hanging out with the masses. I won’t have trouble spotting you, girl. You are the sharpest dresser in the place.”
“Thanks. See you later, break a leg,” she said then wondered if he would know what that meant or if she sounded incoherent. She grabbed Ronnie and together they meandered into the club and found a table. They were excited to hear the band. Daisy thought Jamie would be a fantastic entertainer, he had the looks, personality and presence. She felt more than a little thrill being his date. If that’s what it was.
The show was all the girls had expected and Ronnie was overjoyed at not only seeing this band before any of her friends had but actually knowing them. They were going to be big. Jamie was riveting on stage and the songs were catchy while displaying all the grunge and angst of pure punk. Ronnie kept comparing them to other groups; she was familiar with the history of rock music and had worked in a record store in Berkeley while in college. Daisy knew nothing of any of this. She mostly liked Jamie’s style and moves.
After Shakedown’s set she and Ronnie stayed at their table, not easy to procure and waited for Jamie. They had both had all the drinks they could handle or afford and Daisy was beginning to wonder what happened to Jamie when the other band guys were seen floating around. Ronnie called Phil over to ask where Jamie was.
“Oh, you know how James is...he’s probably in back snorting something. Jenny’s always got something sweet for him. Go on back to the dressing room if you want but the other band is in there. I’ll tell him you’re looking for him if I see him but you know James…never can find him when you want.”
“No, I don’t know James and he said he would find me so tell him if you see him that I am going to leave soon and I’ll see him another time. I’ve got to work early in the morning.” She knew she sounded petulant but it was getting late and all too confusing.
“Work,” laughed Phil. “I forget people work. Why don’t I go back and check up on him for you; wait right here, and Ronnie, when I do find Jamie, why don’t the four of us head out and find our own party. What do you say?”
“Sure. That would be great. Dais, what do you think?”
“Well, I guess so.” She wasn’t sure at all. Something didn’t seem quite right to her but she didn’t want to be a spoilsport. She was determined to be cool tonight. “Stay here and wait for him, Ron, I’ll be back in a minute, I’m going to the bathroom," said Daisy. "Well, maybe not in a minute, looks like there’s a line to get in. Just save the table and watch for Jamie.”
While Daisy was waiting to get into the bathroom she kept an eye out for Jamie in the hallway leading to the dressing room. She didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye and thanking him for putting them on the list. She expected to see him and wondered if she should intrude on the other band. When she finally got into the bathroom there was uproarious chatter with someone spraying perfume around making for a hot sickening smell that caused her to feel dizzy. She had more drinks than she’d probably ever had, smoked some pot and was coming unglued in the tight lycra. She got in and out quickly thinking she might pass out. She scrambled to the back door they had entered earlier in desperate need of fresh air. The alleyway was crowded with smokers and the type who always hangs out around back doors at clubs and she felt helpless in the crowd. It was then she saw Jamie and Jenny Lee sitting on the ground up against the building with their arms around one another, laughing semi-hysterically, with rolled up currency, a hand mirror and a fifth of tequila. They looked up and caught sight of her though she wished she could hide. They cackled some more and then Jamie remembered who she was and called out for her to join them.
“Come on doll, pull up a piece of pavement. Don’t be shy, let’s all party. Come on have a drink…we’re all friends here…now don‘t be like that.” Jenny Lee was laughing like a hyena as Daisy fled the scene.
She dashed back inside, found Ronnie sitting with Phil and said she didn’t feel well, she wanted to leave but would get a cab if Ronnie wanted to stay longer. She was hot, disheveled, irritated, embarrassed with chaos clotting her brain. She didn’t wait for the answer but started for the door. She heard Phil’s voice mumble, “Hey babe, don’t go, wait for James. He’ll be here in a minute, he’ll be sorry if you leave…he wants to be with you…we're going to party at my place.”
Daisy made it to the front door, plowing through the throngs that were pushing forward for the start of the next set. Her hat had fallen off, she bent down to retrieve it, someone clomped down on her foot hard but she was maneuvering through the crowd with precision and purpose: She had never liked rock music, rock musicians or crowded clubs. She never knew exactly why--all of her friends did, but she had always felt a little reproving, too straight somehow. Tonight had sealed it.
She got into a taxi, and when safely at home, called her mom just to feel grounded and then checked her messages. Tret had called just after eleven. She hit his number in a blaze of contrition. He answered on the first ring and at the sound of his voice she felt like she could breathe again.
“Hi, there. Are you still up? Yeah, Ronnie and I went out to this club. No, it was alright. Nothing to get excited about. No, you didn’t miss anything. My foot got crunched and I'm limping. Look, are we still on for Friday night? Great. I’m looking forward to meeting your new coworkers. Yeah, I know I said I was tired. Yeah, I’m okay. Hey, I missed you...yeah, I can come over, make some cocoa...we can watch TV in bed and I'll tell you all about it...”
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