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The Day The Music Lived: Leaving Here

Lemmy

Lemmy laughed at me as I made my way to the huge double front doors of the mansion to check if my car was sitting in the driveway. He knew it would be, I knew it would be but for some reason my mind was still having trouble believing everything about Angel City and mind over matter had me opening the right hand door of the entry way and glancing outside.

As I pulled the huge door open I stepped into the gap and looked out to the driveway sure enough my car was parked at the base of the steps. Not only was it parked there it had been washed and was facing the way I’d be travelling.

“Your bags will be in the back seat too, just like they were when we arrived. You don’t need a passport either!” Lemmy said from behind me.

“Huh? What? How?”

“Angel City.” was all Lemmy said.

“But I only just decided myself that I was going, there was no way anyone could have got up to the rooms, got my bags and got them to the car in that time.”

“Angel City man!”

I didn’t have a response to Lemmy so I shut the door and said nothing about it. I decided to change the topic to the trip back to the ‘real world’, questions I probably would have asked, or had answered without asking, on the way had I had a passenger but since I was travelling solo I needed to know before I left.

“What do I need to open the gates, the ones where we met Würzel?”

“Nothing, they’re automatic.”

“Will they open automatically when I return as well?” I asked making sure I could get back in when I returned in a few days.

“Nah you’ll have to wait there until we come and get you.”

“But how will you know I’m there?” It was at that moment I realised Lemmy was grinning and holding back a laugh. “Ok you’re kidding me I get it.”

“You worry too much!” Lemmy replied.

Worry or not I still wanted things to be confirmed before I left rather than stress about them on my return. I then asked Lemmy about the entrance to Angel City, how I would get in without anyone else with me, how would I get out, what if someone saw me leaving and not that it was going to happen but what if I brought someone else with me.

Getting back in didn’t require someone from Angel City to be with me, whatever happened in that bit of nowhere world between the trees and the road to Angel City somehow just sorted itself out, “maybe it’s magic.” was Lemmy’s response.

As it turns out exiting was just as easy. “Just keep driving when you get to the end of the road,” he told me, which wasn’t and entirely satisfying thing to hear from a guy who didn’t drive even when he was alive.

However he couldn’t answer the question about someone seeing me leave all he could say was that he’d never been seen and as far as he knew no one else had either. But the response he thought was the funniest was his response to my question about bringing someone else with me. “Try it, although I’d suggest you try it with someone you don’t like!” I took that to mean don’t try it at all.

“Guess I’ll head back home now,” I said to Lemmy, “Got a good five hours drive ahead of me, if I leave now I can get home mid afternoon.”

“Don’t forget you go back at whatever time you left.” Lemmy said.

I did a quick calculation, it was only the day before that I left the ‘real world’ but I was having trouble remembering exactly what time we entered Angel City. I knew it was about 11am when we were in the pub because I remembered thinking it was rather early to be drinking JD and coke in a pub, not that I didn’t partake in the wonderful nectar just that it was early. What I couldn’t remember was how long we’d been on the pub for.

Even if I guestimated about an hour, that put it at lunch time, which meant I wouldn’t get home until at least 5pm. I began to wonder if because of the time difference between the two places whether my mind and body would treat it like jet lag. In all my travels overseas for the magazine I was pretty good at coping with jet lag, for me I found that if I moved into the local time and routine as closely as I could as soon as I could the effect of jet lag were less, others I know claim that doesn’t work, but it did for me. If the same worked for Angel City I could head back and grab lunch, at the pub where I met Lemmy, which would waste an hour or so then not only would I miss most of the peak hour city traffic on the home stretch I’d get home just before dark between 6 and 7pm.

I considered asking Lemmy his thoughts on my jet lag theory but quickly realised it probably wasn’t something he knew anything about given he only visited the pub and the general store outside of Angel City.

“I think it was about lunch time when we left yesterday,” I said to Lemmy.

“Yeah could have been I don’t take much notice of time out there.”

“Guess I might head back to the pub and see if I can’t get Ross to make me a countery.”

“A what?”

I forgot Lemmy was a UK born Yank and that Australian slang terms like countery, a meal ordered over the counter at a pub, were probably not something he’d heard or needed often. I explained the term to him and asked if he’d tried the meals at Ross’ pub.

“Yeah I’ve had a few meals, they’ve been good. Tell him to put whatever you have on my tab.” Lemmy said after my explanation.

“How do you pay your tab?” The question was out before I actually thought about what I was saying.

“Huh?”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to ask that, it just came out. I remembered you putting our drinks on the tab yesterday and I didn’t see you pay the bill. Now you’re telling me to put the meal on your tab. I guess the question just popped out. Don’t answer it if you don’t want to.”

Lemmy had a reputation in life of being one of the nicest blokes around, he’d do anything for his mates, do anything for anyone some people have said, so I wasn’t surprised by the generosity just not expecting it. I also hoped I wasn’t going to get the bill handed to me when I went in there for lunch.

“Answering it isn’t the problem. Answering it honestly is. I have no idea what happens to the tab. When I go in there I tell Ross to put it on my tab, he agrees and that’s the last I hear of it. I don’t see any reason why he wont tell you the same thing.”

“Maybe I should just pay for my lunch.” I replied honestly.

“You can, but why bother. If you don’t ask you’ll never know. What’s the worst he could say? No? At least you’ll know for next time.”

What Lemmy said sounded reasonable, I just wondered if I had the gumption to try it, surely dealing with some of the biggest and most pig headed, arrogant rock stars had prepared me to ask a bar tender for a free meal.

Previous Angel City story here.

17 Comments

  1. Curious to see if he gets out safely. I think he may be dead also.

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