Sam stepped up onto the makeshift stage. It didn’t feel very solid under his feet, but he’d seen plenty of people use it without incident. The band last week had three people, and they even looked like they’d had plenty of space.
Sam walked over to the guitar amp. It was old, tattered, and smelled like an ashtray. The dials and speakers were all in the same box – a big box. He picked up a guitar from a nearby stand, cradling over a thousand dollars in his hands.
The strings tickled the palm of Sam’s left hand as he caressed them. He clipped the tuner onto the headstock and made sure the guitar sang the right notes. He switched the amp into standby and put the guitar back onto its stand.
Turning around, Sam faced the crowd of empty tables. In a few hours, people would pour into this room, but for now, he had it all to himself. It was quiet. For several moments, he imagined the faces that would look up at the stage later that evening. They were busy. They were conversing and, most of all, they were smiling.
A cable lay coiled up on the stage in front of the guitar amp. Sam fetched it and plugged one end into the guitar, still on its stand. He plugged the other end into the amp. Picking up the guitar, Sam slung the strap over his neck. He cycled the amp to on and strummed the guitar. The speakers exhaled a beautiful sound.
Sam worked his way through the beginning of a blues song, and he welcomed the oncoming exhilaration. He worked his fingers up the neck and played fancier and fancier until he heard a loud clicking pop.
The room was quiet. Sam put the guitar back down and went to the back room to flip the breaker.
