Practice Practice Practice

I’ve got my noise-dampening, iPod-connected headphones wrapped around my noggin protecting my sensitive little ears, beating the hell out of my set of drums as I play along to a favorite tune.

Handsome walks in. “Hey. HEY!” Flips light switch a couple times.

Removes headphones. “Hi!” Grins like idiot.

Handsome. “Hey, you were playing Lump! Not bad!”

*blink* “Actually, I was playing Day Tripper.”

Handsome. “Oh.” Shifts uncomfortably.

Me. “Well. At least I kinda sound like what I’m playing is a real song!” Grins like idiot.

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