A group of us were travelling, and learning from each other. We were travelling on cars and bikes. When we stopped, we gathered in groups and had workshops and talks. Some of them had guitars. I wanted to join their workshops but I did not have a guitar myself.
We found an abandoned guitar. It was very broken. At first I thought it would only be the strings and I could just fix them and use it, but the rest of the guitar was quite smashed too. One of the other people got it and the rest, who knew him, thought that he may as well just fix it, because he had such fixing skills.
The group continued to have workshops to learn to play the guitar and I attended them without one, but I tried to memorise what they were saying there. Some times they sang too.
One of the girls in the workshops started to taunt and bully me during the breaks. I endured it while I could but it was noticeable for the rest of the people too, and they kind of expected me to do something about it. I had a one-to-one conversation with her.
I wanted her to stop but she didn’t want to. I asked her why she was doing that and she kind of gave some reasons; she told me the features in my behaviour and personality that she did not approve of, or did not like. I told her, look I know it is impossible to be liked by every one. This is the way I am, I am not harming any one, it is just that you dislike some parts of me and you will have to put up with them. You do not need to be my friend or even like me, you just need to be respectful, and if that is too much to ask, just do no be cruel. She was not prepared to do that and I told her that I could be cruel too.
The bullying continued but from now on I responded, and I proved that I could be even more cruel than her, and she stopped. After a few incidents she was even nice. With time I started to notice that she fancied me and was over attentive, and I did not know what was worse.
I left the groups and went to two usual bars. They were not full of people yet and it was nice to talk to the bar tenders and some of the regulars I knew.
When I went out, my uncle was showing a guitar to some people. I wanted to practice one of the songs I had seen play at the workshops. I hadn’t had a guitar at the time so I didn’t remember the whole of the song, but I wanted to play what I remembered. It was a danceable piece and some of them listened and liked it; some others just went on with their conversations.