The Story Remains the Same ~ A Led Zeppelin Story

Chapter Seven

In the white room with black curtains near the station

Black roof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings

Silver horse ran down moonbeams

In your dark eyes

Dawnlight slimes on you leaving, my contentment

 

I sang along to Creams White Room that was playing over the intercom radio thingy. Y’know what I mean. That thing that you hear music from in like the elevators, grocery stores, doctors offices waiting rooms, etc… White Room has been my favorite by Cream since I heard it last year. Its super catchy, especially the beginning. It was really popular back home. Me and Stella always blasted it though the radio or record player when it was playing.

 

Its has a really slow day, and I mean slow. It may have been my second day and all but it was pretty slow. The males from Led Zeppelin came in early the they needed two. I mean eight fifteen was about fifteen minutes before they were told to but it didn’t really matter. At least they weren’t fifteen minutes late. That would've been bad. I actually got to show them around Atlantic Records and made sure they were fine.

Patrick was their recording guy. Patrick is one of the best there is in ALL of England according to Rolling Stones U.K. He’s really nice two. I had a five minute conversation with him this morning while the males of Led Zeppelin got their equipment ready and got situated.  

I got some details about the album. Its going to be called “Led Zeppelin I”. A couple song titles seemed very promising. Like Good Times Bad Times, Babe, I’m Gonna Leave You, Dazed and Confused and I Can’t Quit You Baby. Patrick told me that the works here get a free copy before it’s shipped all over the world. Patrick usually gets done recording in like a month. What I mean is that he doesn’t have time for mistakes and makes sure everything gets recorded perfectly the first time. Which I could understand. So we'll probably get the record in a month.

Mr. Page though keeped making glances to my way a couple times. I could fell my cheeks burn when we make eye contact. His grey eyes felt like they were looking into your soul. Trying to find what you are all about. He’s eyes would make you think twice about doing something. He looked like a very mysterious in some way but very sweet but can break your heart faster than snapping your fingers. There was something about him that could get him what he wants.

Throughout the day all I wanted to do was put my head through the table. That’s how slow and boring the day was. My dad told me before I left that “Somedays at work you will have many things to do and somedays you just wanna leave from the amount of boredom you get.” He was right. Today is such a drag I’m ready for a drink. Three-Thirty couldn’t come any quicker. Only one hour left of work and I’m going to the pub by my flat. After that I’ll probably go home and listen to some records.

~One Hour Later (Three-Thirty)~

Thank god the day has finally ended. I just couldn’t wait to leave. It was just such an irritating day.

I walked back to my flat so I can get out of my work clothes. I decided to wear heels today which  wasn’t such a great idea, but they had gone with my outfit today so yeah.

When I got to the flat Sarah wasn’t home so I decided to take a quick shower. It was a little hot on the way home and I had gotten a little bit sweaty.

When I got out of the shower I grabbed a pair of jean shorts and a plain T-shirt from my dresser and got changed real quick. I put my hair back in a ponytail and put a little eyeliner and mascara on. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.

The pub wasn’t crowded but wasn’t two empty. Then again it was only four p.m. I sat down at the bar. All I wanted was three drinks so whats the point of sitting at a table. There was three empty seats next to me. One on one side and two on the other.

“What can I get you miss?” the bartender asked with a smoke in his mouth while dying off a glass.

“Um do you have Jack Daniels” I asked looking at all the different boozes they had trying to find the Daniels.

“Yes we do” the bartender answers.

“Good. I’ll have three shots of Daniels. All at once, please.”

The bartender looked surprise that I, a woman, ordered three shots of Daniels. I didn’t care about the whole “feminist movement” and how women should be treated right and shit like that. I fully believe that women should stay in the kitchen, even though I have a job, but thats how I was raised. I could care less I just like the look on males faces when I don’t order some fruity-girly drink. I mean I’m partly Irish and German, the most known drinkers known to man. Plus I kinda liked the heavier stuff.

“Wow three shots of Daniels” I heard a drunk old man say through a chuckle “I’ll be surpise if your face doesn’t scrunch up like a kid eating a sour piece of candy.”

“Actually I’ve been drinking Daniels for four years now” I said with pride in my voice “I think I can handle it now.”

Its true me and Stella have been drinking Daniels since we were sixteen. Mike would always take it from his dad and give us the bottle. We would head up to the hill by the park and share the bottle while talking about god knows what. The first couple times we didn’t really like it but after a while we got use to it. It was a Friday/Saturday special thing we would do.

The bartender poured my three shots in front of me. Always keep your eye on your drink. You never know if someone slipped something in it. I took the first shot. Boy was it like heaven. I haven’t drank in like a month. The second one was even better. The last one was so fucking fantastic I forgot how good Daniels was. I payed the bartender £2.07 and tipped him five bucks.

I got of the bar stool and headed towards the door to go home and listen to some records. As I got to the door all the sudden the door slammed right in my face. I thought I heard a crunch from my nose but I could just be over reacting.

“Ah fuck man. Watch when you open the door next time fucking bastard” I yelled in anger. I was pretty pissed I mean I just got hit in the face with the door.

“Oh god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there” a sweet voice said that sounded awfully familiar.

“Are you okay? Do you need ice?” he asked  

“Yeah I’m okay.” I said while picking up my purse that fell after I got hit with the door. “I don’t think I need ice but if I do I’ll probably put it on when i get home.”

I picked up my head up from looking from the floor from picking my purse. When I standing up right I seen the male who hit me. It was Mr. Page.

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Page I didn’t mean to call you that or say those things” I was fucked. I wasn’t sure but I felt really fucked.

“Please call me Jimmy.” he said looking less worried seeing I was somewhat fine “You're the nice lass from Atlantic Records… um Ms. Cunningham I presume?”

“Just Hazel” I replied quickly trying to get out of here as soon as possible “Um…. I kinda have to go. My cousin might be worried where I have gone to. It was nice “bumping” into you here.”

I quickly walked out of there just hearing a small ‘bye’ quietly.

Note to self: Never go to that pub again.