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"Little tiny Tarzan, swinging on a nose hair, swinging with the greatest of ease..."
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"Little tiny Tarzan, swinging on a nose hair, swinging with the greatest of ease..." Phoebe sang and strummed some chords on her guitar. And then she cleared her throat and hummed awkwardly. "Darn it! I don't know how to get to the next verse." She cursed.
"Oh, well, you could just go, uh...greatest of ease bum–a–numma–numma...and then go right into it." Ross suggested to her with a demonstration.
"Yeah. Ooh, I like that." She nodded her head. "Wait. How do you know about 'bum–a–numma–nummas'?" She tilted her head to the side.
"Well, uh...you know, I used to play." He waved it off.
"Here we go again." Monica and I shared a look of boredom.
"Oh, yeah, that's right. The keyboards, huh?" Phoebe wrote something down in her music.
"Just a little in high school." He wiggled his fingers. "But then I really got into it in college. I mean, that's–that's when I really found my sound." He set down a card. Monica was drinking here juice but choked out a laugh.
"Oh, God. Orange juice just came out of my noise. But it was totally worth it." Mon put her cup down on the table as I handed her a tissue. "Oh my God. I completely forgot about your sound." She giggled.
"Yeah." Ross said in an obvious tone.
"He used to lock himself in the basement for hours. And no one was ever allowed to hear 'The Sound'." Monica turned to Phoebe.
"With the cheering and the locked doors, I really didn't know what to think of it." I shook my head.
"I want to hear 'The Sound'." Phoebe mimicked Monica's deep voice.
"No, I mean...no, I haven't played in so long, and–and...well, it's really personal stuff, you know?" He explained.
"Come on. Play that funky music, white boy." Phoebe encouraged him.
"Yeah, come on. Do it, Ross." Monica and I backed her up.
"No, you guys. I mean, my keyboards are all the way in the—no, yeah, okay." He quickly agreed after some nonsense rambling. He placed his cards on the table and ran out of the room. That night, Ross brought his keyboard over to the girls' place and got it set up. Everyone except Chandler was here. "Okay, guys." Ross called out to us once he was ready.
"Bring it on, Ross Geller." We gathered around the couches and coffee table.
"Here we go." Ross cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together in preparation. He took in a deep breath before pressing on a single note for barely a second. "You know, I've never played my stuff for anyone before, so it's important that–that you understand it's about communicating...very private emotions." He detailed. We all just nodded our heads and waited for him to start. He played the same note again before stopping. "You know, um...you should–you should think of, um...my work as wordless sound poems." He advised us and got ready to actually play. "That's what—" He was about to talk again.
