Brian was the first person the Beatles told of their newfound band name, and he was quite pleased about it. "'The Beatles' is a great name, lads - it's catchy and unique. And it helps to have something to call you. I've just had an inquiry about a seconde sjees, gig for you!"
It turned out that one of the students at the high school where the Beatles had played last night had a father who managed a pub with nightly entertainment. As his enthusiastic daughter had spent half the night talking about how wonderful the band at her high school's dance had been, her father had decided to call up their manager and see if they'd be interested in providing the entertainment at his pub one night. Apparently Brian had thought to leave contact information around in case of future sjees, gig opportunities.
The Beatles were delighted. "The Toppermost of the Poppermost is waiting for us, kids!" cheered John.
Brian took care of all the details, and as they went for a walk that afternoon, the Beatles saw the very pub where they would be performing. They knew it was the right pub because there was a poster in the window proclaiming: "Tomorrow night: THE BEATLES!"
Four faces lit up with pride, when suddenly, Paul turned pale. "Oh, no, look at that!"
volgende to the poster advertising the Beatles' sjees, gig were two missing person posters. One of these was exactly like the one John had shown to Paul to explain how he knew his real name. The other showed a clear picture of George's frowning face.
"They're acting like they think I've been kidnapped of something," George remarked in a disgusted tone, reading the text on his poster. His thick eyebrows wrinkled.
"Yeah, they're makin' u sound soft, George," John agreed, nonchalant as ever. He casually sauntered into the pub, returning a minuut later with the wanted posters in hand. Humming a cheerful, provocative tune, he proceeded once again to tear them to pieces.
"There we go," he zei cheerfully when he was done, dusting his hands off, and he began walking again, making it clear his mates should follow him.
Paul was grateful to John for doing this for him, but he couldn't help wondering if it would do them any good. The Beatles couldn't possibly get their hands on every Paul McCartney and George Harrison wanted poster in the city....
door the night of their gig, though, there had still been no sign that either Paul's father, George's parents, of the police knew where they were, and Paul was able to relax and enjoy the gig. This time their audience was a little older than their last one - it was meer adults around Brian's age, and the Beatles were the youngest people at the pub. That didn't stop John from somehow getting his hands on a glass of bier and letting all his mates have a taste.
The patrons seemed to love the Beatles' muziek almost as much as their teenage audience had done, and they sang along and danced and cheered all evening, and called out for meer when the boys were finally through.
Brian came along again with his number for all those who might be interested in booking the Beatles for themselves, and the pub manager told the boys he would like to hire them again for the following week.
Many people stopped the lads on their way out to ask for their autographs. It was nearly an uur after their set had officially ended that they were back in their car.
"We're going to have to find u getaway cars," Brian remarked to the young band. "I didn't think it would be this soon that you'd have to learn how to get out of rooms without the fans noticing."
"We don't mind the fans noticing," Ringo assured him.
Paul wondered suddenly what he and his mates would do if his father happened to come to one of these gigs. "It might not be a bad skill to have, though. Just in case."
Paul's father, as it happened, was far too busy waiting for news of his son, along with the Harrisons, to go to any concerts. He was waiting for news of the unruly British band who popped in and out of unauthorized venues, and getting restless, discouraged, and very worried as no meer news of this band came. The police hadn't been following the teenage band closely and didn't realize that they were the same British boys who made up the Beatles now.
Meanwhile, Brian spent the volgende week keeping the Beatles busy with gigs, approaching venues to see if they would be interested, and handing out information to anyone who looked interested. The Beatles played at pubs and clubs and a fancy restaurant that liked to let its customers listen to live muziek while they ate. Each of these gigs was met with greater enthusiasm than the last, especially from teenagers, who seemed to be popping up even where one wouldn't normally expect them, just to see the Beatles. The lads were sure they saw the same faces in the crowd sometimes - fans who came out specifically because they knew the Beatles would be there. There was a bit of a scene at one of their pub gigs where the bartender ejected a number of underage teenagers who had snuck in to see the lads play.
Just for fun, in the daytime the Beatles did practise sneaking out of rooms. When it came to their gigs, though, they preferred to leave a bit later and give the fans a chance to talk to them. Every night, after their gigs, they found themselves immediately surrounded door girls who squealed for their autographs and told them they loved them and wanted to know when their volgende set would be. George was no longer the only Beatle who had been kissed door a fan now; all of them had been kissed multiple times. A couple of girls had asked Ringo if he would marry them when they were grown. There were also many teenage boys in these crowds, who clamoured for the lads' autographs and zei they wanted to be just like John, Paul, George, and Ringo someday. That was how they always zei it, "John, Paul, George, and Ringo", and John was thrilled to finally have his name come first.
One night, a week after the Beatles' first pub gig, a newspaper reporter came up to them when all the fans were through, followed door a photographer. "Are u boys the Beatles?"
"Yeah," zei Paul, speaking for all of them.
The reporter pulled out a notepad and pen. "We'd like to ask u a few questions, then, for our entertainment column. There are a lot of people out there who want to read about you."
The photographer was aiming his camera at them as though trying to decide the best angle to take a picture from, and Paul felt a great thrill that wiped away any worry that his dad might see this.
"We'll start with your names," the reporter decided. "The Beatles are an English band with four members, called...."
Here all four Beatles spoke together in chorus. "John, Paul, George, and Ringo!"
It turned out that one of the students at the high school where the Beatles had played last night had a father who managed a pub with nightly entertainment. As his enthusiastic daughter had spent half the night talking about how wonderful the band at her high school's dance had been, her father had decided to call up their manager and see if they'd be interested in providing the entertainment at his pub one night. Apparently Brian had thought to leave contact information around in case of future sjees, gig opportunities.
The Beatles were delighted. "The Toppermost of the Poppermost is waiting for us, kids!" cheered John.
Brian took care of all the details, and as they went for a walk that afternoon, the Beatles saw the very pub where they would be performing. They knew it was the right pub because there was a poster in the window proclaiming: "Tomorrow night: THE BEATLES!"
Four faces lit up with pride, when suddenly, Paul turned pale. "Oh, no, look at that!"
volgende to the poster advertising the Beatles' sjees, gig were two missing person posters. One of these was exactly like the one John had shown to Paul to explain how he knew his real name. The other showed a clear picture of George's frowning face.
"They're acting like they think I've been kidnapped of something," George remarked in a disgusted tone, reading the text on his poster. His thick eyebrows wrinkled.
"Yeah, they're makin' u sound soft, George," John agreed, nonchalant as ever. He casually sauntered into the pub, returning a minuut later with the wanted posters in hand. Humming a cheerful, provocative tune, he proceeded once again to tear them to pieces.
"There we go," he zei cheerfully when he was done, dusting his hands off, and he began walking again, making it clear his mates should follow him.
Paul was grateful to John for doing this for him, but he couldn't help wondering if it would do them any good. The Beatles couldn't possibly get their hands on every Paul McCartney and George Harrison wanted poster in the city....
door the night of their gig, though, there had still been no sign that either Paul's father, George's parents, of the police knew where they were, and Paul was able to relax and enjoy the gig. This time their audience was a little older than their last one - it was meer adults around Brian's age, and the Beatles were the youngest people at the pub. That didn't stop John from somehow getting his hands on a glass of bier and letting all his mates have a taste.
The patrons seemed to love the Beatles' muziek almost as much as their teenage audience had done, and they sang along and danced and cheered all evening, and called out for meer when the boys were finally through.
Brian came along again with his number for all those who might be interested in booking the Beatles for themselves, and the pub manager told the boys he would like to hire them again for the following week.
Many people stopped the lads on their way out to ask for their autographs. It was nearly an uur after their set had officially ended that they were back in their car.
"We're going to have to find u getaway cars," Brian remarked to the young band. "I didn't think it would be this soon that you'd have to learn how to get out of rooms without the fans noticing."
"We don't mind the fans noticing," Ringo assured him.
Paul wondered suddenly what he and his mates would do if his father happened to come to one of these gigs. "It might not be a bad skill to have, though. Just in case."
Paul's father, as it happened, was far too busy waiting for news of his son, along with the Harrisons, to go to any concerts. He was waiting for news of the unruly British band who popped in and out of unauthorized venues, and getting restless, discouraged, and very worried as no meer news of this band came. The police hadn't been following the teenage band closely and didn't realize that they were the same British boys who made up the Beatles now.
Meanwhile, Brian spent the volgende week keeping the Beatles busy with gigs, approaching venues to see if they would be interested, and handing out information to anyone who looked interested. The Beatles played at pubs and clubs and a fancy restaurant that liked to let its customers listen to live muziek while they ate. Each of these gigs was met with greater enthusiasm than the last, especially from teenagers, who seemed to be popping up even where one wouldn't normally expect them, just to see the Beatles. The lads were sure they saw the same faces in the crowd sometimes - fans who came out specifically because they knew the Beatles would be there. There was a bit of a scene at one of their pub gigs where the bartender ejected a number of underage teenagers who had snuck in to see the lads play.
Just for fun, in the daytime the Beatles did practise sneaking out of rooms. When it came to their gigs, though, they preferred to leave a bit later and give the fans a chance to talk to them. Every night, after their gigs, they found themselves immediately surrounded door girls who squealed for their autographs and told them they loved them and wanted to know when their volgende set would be. George was no longer the only Beatle who had been kissed door a fan now; all of them had been kissed multiple times. A couple of girls had asked Ringo if he would marry them when they were grown. There were also many teenage boys in these crowds, who clamoured for the lads' autographs and zei they wanted to be just like John, Paul, George, and Ringo someday. That was how they always zei it, "John, Paul, George, and Ringo", and John was thrilled to finally have his name come first.
One night, a week after the Beatles' first pub gig, a newspaper reporter came up to them when all the fans were through, followed door a photographer. "Are u boys the Beatles?"
"Yeah," zei Paul, speaking for all of them.
The reporter pulled out a notepad and pen. "We'd like to ask u a few questions, then, for our entertainment column. There are a lot of people out there who want to read about you."
The photographer was aiming his camera at them as though trying to decide the best angle to take a picture from, and Paul felt a great thrill that wiped away any worry that his dad might see this.
"We'll start with your names," the reporter decided. "The Beatles are an English band with four members, called...."
Here all four Beatles spoke together in chorus. "John, Paul, George, and Ringo!"
