Pests

Part 1 of Phylum

   This was a life changing moment. I was just another number to them, as I stood here sweating furiously in my tux.

"We will now see anyone with the last name beginning with L through O. Once again, if your last name start's with an L or an O, they are ready to see you now."

   There was five of us that stood up, instruments in hand. The one towards the O side of the line was pretty cute. A brunette with a nose ring and an asymmetrical hair cut. But what punk girl that plays the clarinet? Punks are normally play bass or percussion. We all were nervous, but I was a walking disaster. The last thing that this girl would want to see.  Okay Phil, drop the bullshit at the door and go in that room with confidence. I know I can do this, I've been to group auditions before, and I've gotten into regional orchestras without problem, this is just another audition... even if it is for your dream school.

   I walked in confidently and assembled myself in line. There were three professors at the table at the base of the auditorium, all tweed wearing; exactly what you would assume a music professor to look like.

"Recite your names."

I couldn't be bothered to learn the others kids names, except the cute punkish girl's name was Marissa.

"Phil."

   I mumbled that off almost unintelligibly, but I think they got the point.One of the professors adjusted his tiny glasses.

"Okay, now let's all start with scales. We all want to make sure that you know your key signatures. Jason, let's start with you. Play us an B major scale."

   Jason took a breath and started to play, he was adding vibrato on to everything and elongating the scales for added emphasis. This jerk is showing off for no reason. I couldn't believe he was trying to be a diva during a fucking scale. Calm down man, save that for your audition at least.  Jason even was pitchy! How do you botch that?

"Thank you Jason, Well done".

Well done?

"Phil, play an A minor scale if you would be so kind."

   I took a breath and adjusted my reed. I was going to present them with a standard quarter note, eighth note scale, without any bells or whistles or anything.

I started to play, and I kept it at a slow tempo, makeing sure I think through, and sink the landing of each note, and during my second to last note I got cut off.

"That will be enough, you may leave."

"What?"  I said incredulously. "How did you let that guy finish?"

One of the more paunchy professors stood up.

"Because although his presentation was uncommon, he didn't cut short one of his notes by an entire thirty-second note. That will be all."

"Sir, i'm sorry. As you can imagine i'm very nervous, can I at least play my audition piece?"

As I was saying this a vein on his neck watching twitching.

"No. First off, I don't need to see what you can do, I already know that the youth orchestra I conduct has a better sense of timing than you do. Secondly, You can go home right now, and pracitce for eight hours a day for a year. Then, you can come back and try again. Don't waste all of our time with your unworthy audition. Good day."

I shot Marissa a quick look, and she returned a look of disgust at me.

"That son of a bitch!"

   I screamed as I woke up to my audition piece in the overheard sound system of the University of Denver hospital room. Anytime I heard Stravinsky it made me furious, which they had coming through their shitty internal, tin can speaker soundsytem. This is why I don't listen to music in general anymore.  That moment was the last nail in the coffin for my self-esteem.