Post by kennedy daniels on Jun 20, 2008 23:00:36 GMT -5
Selling things was a lot easier said then done. Sure these were adoring fans who were willing to follow one to the ends of the earth to hear the band play, but even said fans didn't have that much money. She could only sell so many shirts, pins, posters, and so forth. Fans were there to listen to one's shit, not buy it. Ah, it was a bittersweet sort of thing, and Eisley Daniels was getting all sour face about it. If only momentarily.
Selling merch had its perk. She got to meet the fans face to face. Thank them for their support, and get a good chat or two in. It was fascinating to hear all sorts of different stories from fans; how they became fans, the lengths they took to see them play live, or simply to meet them. It really put things into perspective. It was only a year or two ago that the band had gotten together to begin with. Typically, bands did this for years. Five, ten, the numbers sky rocket, but there they were, Jumping Ambulances, one of the lucky few.
But on the other end, it was almost unbearable. It wasn't that she wasn't appreciative towards the fans. She was extremely grateful, but frankly, the girl merely despised the fame and adoration. Bizarre, right? Not enjoying being adored by more than one person. There was just something off to her about someone admiring her. She was just a normal girl, stuck with four guys in a dingy caravan. Nothing special in the slightest. They were doing what they loved- hanging out and making music.
She bit her lip as the thoughts raced through her mind, and eyes sauntered towards the sky. Well, there was the problem. The sales merch was far too busy with her head in the clouds to sell. She had lost track of time to be honest. How long she had been sitting behind that table in the most uncomfortable chair ever, was beyond her. First, she had been perusing other bands merchandise, hanging amongst the crowd, and listening to the competition play. Before she knew it, she had been convinced, or rather manipulated, into taking care of the table. She had happily obliged, but now she was guiltily regretting it.
She normally wasn't one to complain, but hell, she felt like complaining. Where the hell were the others? They should have known she would be a lousy salesmen. She was always too busy daydreaming or spacing out to pay attention to needy customers.
Snatching her canteen, she frowned in disappointment as it swished in an empty manner. She was all out of water dammit, and she was thirsty to boot. Now she was just being grouchy. She set it down, and looked around curiously. Still no sign of her saviors. Turning back, she grabbed a hold of heavy chestnut locks, sweeping them up into a messy bun, an attempt to keep herself unnecessarily preoccupied.
Her mind drifted off once more. Now she was simply trying to come up with ideas as to how exactly she would sell this merch. Dance wildly in front of everyone? Sell her soul? A wicked smile filtered across pale lips as she thought of an even better idea. Convince Robbie to dress in drag? Oh yes. It would be her form of sweet revenge. What had he done? Absolutely nothing. He was her brother. [/font][/i]
Selling merch had its perk. She got to meet the fans face to face. Thank them for their support, and get a good chat or two in. It was fascinating to hear all sorts of different stories from fans; how they became fans, the lengths they took to see them play live, or simply to meet them. It really put things into perspective. It was only a year or two ago that the band had gotten together to begin with. Typically, bands did this for years. Five, ten, the numbers sky rocket, but there they were, Jumping Ambulances, one of the lucky few.
But on the other end, it was almost unbearable. It wasn't that she wasn't appreciative towards the fans. She was extremely grateful, but frankly, the girl merely despised the fame and adoration. Bizarre, right? Not enjoying being adored by more than one person. There was just something off to her about someone admiring her. She was just a normal girl, stuck with four guys in a dingy caravan. Nothing special in the slightest. They were doing what they loved- hanging out and making music.
She bit her lip as the thoughts raced through her mind, and eyes sauntered towards the sky. Well, there was the problem. The sales merch was far too busy with her head in the clouds to sell. She had lost track of time to be honest. How long she had been sitting behind that table in the most uncomfortable chair ever, was beyond her. First, she had been perusing other bands merchandise, hanging amongst the crowd, and listening to the competition play. Before she knew it, she had been convinced, or rather manipulated, into taking care of the table. She had happily obliged, but now she was guiltily regretting it.
She normally wasn't one to complain, but hell, she felt like complaining. Where the hell were the others? They should have known she would be a lousy salesmen. She was always too busy daydreaming or spacing out to pay attention to needy customers.
Snatching her canteen, she frowned in disappointment as it swished in an empty manner. She was all out of water dammit, and she was thirsty to boot. Now she was just being grouchy. She set it down, and looked around curiously. Still no sign of her saviors. Turning back, she grabbed a hold of heavy chestnut locks, sweeping them up into a messy bun, an attempt to keep herself unnecessarily preoccupied.
Her mind drifted off once more. Now she was simply trying to come up with ideas as to how exactly she would sell this merch. Dance wildly in front of everyone? Sell her soul? A wicked smile filtered across pale lips as she thought of an even better idea. Convince Robbie to dress in drag? Oh yes. It would be her form of sweet revenge. What had he done? Absolutely nothing. He was her brother. [/font][/i]
