Drum Circles

           
            I went to a drum circle. I never felt more empty in my life. I got there a little late so I sat outside the circle with some other guy. He had a blank empty look on is face. He could have been a robot spy for all I knew.
            I grabbed a drum and sat on a love seat. A man walked up to me- without me knowing it, I had sat on his shirt. I apologized. His shirt looked like part of the couch to me.
            I started drumming and true to form at most drum circles no one was holding down the bass. I looked around the room and people were frantically drumming away. I was like having a room full of lead guitarists. Whatever, I'll hold down the bass.
         The man whose shirt I'd sat on kept looking over at me. I wasn't sure why. He looked just like a snake oil salesman.
          The hostess brought the drumming to a stop and suggested that people outside the circle find a seat in the circle. I got up to move toward an empty chair. I was reaching for it to sit down when the snake oil salesman cut in front of me and took it. I stood in disbelief. I would have said something if it weren't a drum circle in a respectable home. My idea of a drum circle is good vibes. I let it go, sort of.
           Now I was sitting behind the snake oil salesman, and the energy of the drumming picked up. I was pounding on my drum pretty hard. All the while I was thinking that my drum was the snake oil salesman's head. I'd look at his head and pound my drum left, right, left, right over and over. I really took it out on him. Deep down that's what I wanted to do, I just wanted to slap him silly. We were instant enemies in my mind.
           So much for good vibes at drum circles. Sometimes they're just pure evil.