Musicsoc/Summer, 2014 7
THE NIGHT
OWLS
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I have discovered an infestation in the music department. Not mice, not lice, not woodworms nor wasps. These are the night owls!
Our story begins one fateful night, in Willow, or Salvation, or some one of York’s seedy and drunken clubs. I’d been dancing with a girl all that night – a dancer, a pianist, a POG (Physique of Greatness, google it)…you know who you are, darling – and the time came to play the trump card. We left the club and I offered to walk her and her lovely [insert asset] home.
This first date – I’ll take anything – was going well. Conversation was flowing and my swinging hand was swinging ever closer to hers. I wanted to make the move and grab her hand. But I was preoccupied. I’d had a lot to drink. I needed the loo.
A solution was in sight! We were within the boundaries of campus and the Music Department offered a chance to turn a bad situation into a wooing opportunity. I would take her in, make her tea, excuse myself and invite her to play a duet with me (she’s a pianist, remember!). I would tap out a beat, set the rhythm, take the lead, and she would provide the sweet, sweet melody. Maybe our voices would harmonise....
Lights shone from the Department windows and my all night access card was burning a hole in my pocket.
We went in. All was quiet, at first. A flute warbled delicately from a practice room, and stray piano notes floated here and there as we stood for a moment in the entrance way, perfectly still, both listening to the Department, to each other, but mostly to the drunken rush in our ears – a mixture of alcohol, and proximity to the subwoofers.
Then she ran. She turned tail and sprinted. Her heels made this an impressive feat, but I didn’t have time to appreciate it in my confusion. Stunned, and with no hope of catching up with the agile lass, I looked around for an explanation. There, in the half-light sat an eerie coven. Their high eyes gleamed out, reflecting the neon in a kaleidoscope of colours and their mangled and stained teeth grimaced at me.
These are the night owls. They haunt the Music Department when we’ve gone to bed. Camouflaged as normal music students, albeit keen ones, in the daytime, at night their true colours show.
They are a pest to all gallant (and full-bladdered) gentlemusicians looking to woo a girl with a tinkle on the ivory, or the strumming of a gee-tar.
If you know one of the night owls, please email [email protected] and we will pass their name onto student welfare services. We want to help them, to help us.
Will Edwards
Senior Reporter