Band Camp
And this one time, at band camp....
We've all heard this one liner from our own fellow band members. They're that two hundred mob clique who live in that building that is practically in itself another home for them. There are even rumors that they sleep in there, too.
Well folks, it's all true. The showers, the changing room door that doesn't close all the way, the doors that lock at 5 in the morning so we can't get into the band hall: it's all true. Or, at least most of it is until some over-excited band kid decides to embellish his condition a "tad" bit.
Let me tell you, life for a band geek isn't easy. There's the time commitment to practicing an instrument while attempting to keep a solid GPA. But don't get me started about marching season. When those two words are uttered (just try this with a band kid, yeah, that weirdo sitting next to you in English class) every member of the marching band will suddenly snap out of their sleep-deprived stupors and cringe. What's coming up next is probably a lengthy recount of the many sordid tales and dramas that accompany the short, what was it, two months that make up this period of time.
Basically, we don't have a life until November kicks in. But in the sweat and tears, there's always some kind of high school drama going on. What would one expect when over two hundred hormone-crazed teenagers are tossed into only five buses and there's two hours committed to doing, gasp, absolutely nothing? That's why band kids just seem to be so together all the time and they only go out with each other (this statement has been proven wrong time and time again, so don't stereotype us like that... although for the most part it's completely true). It's also more correct to say, "One time on the band bus..." because that's where everything in my small world happens.
This one time at band camp three kids fainted from the heat and one girl had to be sent home because she couldn't stand the workout anymore.
But this other time, on the band bus, we started a rave, almost rocked the bus over, managed to get a kid locked in that disgustingly unsanitary bus restroom in the back, and nearly didn't get home until 2 in the morning. By that time, we were all good friends.
Of course, there were other things going on as well that just aren't appropriate enough to be talked about at the moment... but for now, I'd like to impart to you this knowledge in the hopes that you will reconsider your stereotypes about band kids from now on and forever.