Chapter 24

But Doug loved the ugly piece of shit, which he alternately called his Love Bus or his Band Van, depending on his mood. “If it’s ever rocking, don’t come a knocking,” he joked.

Larry grimaced as Doug hammered on the van’s side panel. “Have you ever really gotten laid in that thing? I mean, seriously?”

“Hey, it could happen,” Doug said.

Larry wasn’t quite so sure. “Could and would are worlds apart.”

The bus could sit eight, but Doug removed the last row of seats to allow more room for Larry’s drum kit and Rob’s keyboards. When it was only the three of them, his guitar was strapped into one of the remaining back seats beside Rob, held securely in place with the seat belt. Larry always rode shotgun. Doug always drove.