Page 51 of Sing Your Secrets
Sedi finishes one burger, balls up the wrapper, and banks a perfect shot into the open garbage can to our right. He starts on his second McDouble. “I’m sure they weren’t that bad. Your voice could salvage anything.”
“There’s a song on the demo called ‘Bubblegum Yum Yum’ if that tells you what you need to know.
“Oh, damn.” He tries to hide his chuckle by clearing his throat. “I’mma need to hear that so I can give you shit forever.”
I laugh. “Not a chance.”
“I should’ve just moved with you, man. I would’ve made your mixes and protected your gullible ass. When you asked me to move to L.A., I just—”
“Sedi,” I say knocking one elbow on the table. “Your mom was sick. You made the right choice. I would’ve hated myself if you left your mom when she needed you to help my sorry ass chase a fantasy.”
He nods his head. “She’s aight now, though.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. I um… I should’ve checked in more, I’m sorry—”
“Nah, we’re straight.” Sedi makes a motion with his hand like a fish swimming through water—letting me know it’s water under the bridge. “So, what are you up to now? What’s up with The Garage?”
“I’m managing it for a little while until the new owner takes over.”
Sedi purses his lips. “You think I could get in there sometime? Play some of my new stuff?”
“Ah, I can do better than that,” I say, rubbing my hands together. “You didn’t know, but this is actually a business lunch. How much is Blue Horn paying you to spin?”
“Not enough,” he grumbles bitterly.
“What if you—”
“Yup.”
“I’m talking about full time—”
“I’m in, bruh.”
“We need someone who is well versed in the equipment. I’m thinking we have three to four live performance slots a week, and then on the other days, we can host all kinds of events—open mic nights, karaoke, parties, ladies nights. You could just take over the table whenever you wanted. Play your mixes. Whatever gets people in the door and having a good time.”
Sedi holds his hands in the air. “What’d I just say? I’m in.”
“You don’t even know what I can offer.”
He groans like he’s unconcerned. “I know you’ll take care of your boy. And anything is better than here.”
“All right,” I say, excited and relieved. In one day, I got a DJ and my best friend back. “I’ll set it up. Can you come by next week? I want you there when the sound equipment gets installed. We’re supposed to be up and running by the first weekend of July if I can book an opener.”
“You got it,” he says, digging in the brown paper bag for his last burger. Damn. For a skinny guy, he sure as hell can put them away. “I can spin here ‘till you’re ready.”
“Hey,” I ask as an idea hits me. “Do they still let you play whatever you want here?” I nod over my shoulder to the back door leading to the dance floor.
“The owners?” Sedi asks and I nod in response. “They don’t give a fuck. As long as the bar tabs are high, they don’t care what people are listening to. I’m tellin’ you, my talents here are wasted.”
“Are you working on Saturday?”
“Mhm.” He engulfs half of his third burger in one big bite. “Every Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.”
Who is clubbing on a Sunday?“Could you run a set list for me? Just like five songs. And do you have any instrumentals I could sing to?”
Sedi finds a devious smile. “Oooh, ho, ho, MiLo’s got himself a girl. Who you tryna’ sing to? You find yourself a nice thicky-thick redbone—”
“Sedi, do you know your vocabulary sounds like you’re using The Carter IV as a dictionary?”