A New Squid in Town

3. A New Acquaintance

With an intrigued look spread across his countenance, Squidward sat down at an empty table and leaned forward, his hands propped under his chin as he listened to the clarinet melody. It came directly from the mysterious squid he had encountered a moment ago. He was playing his gold-colored clarinet with great fluidity. Two other fish creatures joined him. One of them played the piano, while another used a bass guitar. The three performed relaxing-sounding smooth jazz, all thoroughly enjoying their part. The audience threw roses at the trio when their performance was over, cheering wildly. "That's more like it!" shouted a fish in the audience. "Finally, some GOOD music!" another added. "You could say they blew the first two performances out of the water!" Several fish chuckled at the bad joke, while others rolled their eyes.

Meanwhile, Squidward was too distracted to notice the disrespectful comments. He watched the trio of musicians with great intrigue; his eyes enlarged with admiration. He applauded them enthusiastically as he rushed upon the stage, hoping to catch them before they left. "That was fantastic!" he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "I've never heard such immaculate clarinet playing!" "Yeah!" someone in the audience shouted. "We haven't, either!" Squidward rolled his eyes. He clasped his tentacle hands together and continued to speak with the band. "Thanks," said the squid. "That's very kind of you." He smiled shyly. "You weren't so bad yourself." He grinned. "Okay, it was pretty bad. But it's not entirely your fault. May I see your clarinet?" Squidward handed the instrument to the other sea creature. "Please be careful."

"Of course." The squid tuned it properly and handed it back to the octopus, smiling kindly. "It was a little out of tune," he explained. "Should be okay now." "Right." Squidward looked slightly embarrassed, but he brushed off the thought. "I must know your name," he said. The squid extended his hand outward, and the two shook hands. "I'm Octavius," he said. "Squidward," replied the octopus. After a brief silence, the squid sighed and hopped off the stage. "Well, we gotta head out," he said. "We have another performance at the theater down the street; then we need to grab a bite to eat." "Of course. It was nice meeting you, Octavius." "You too, Squidward." 

The teal-colored octopus didn't want to seem desperate, but thoughts of him not having any friends continued to enter his mind. It was some kind of "Best Buddy" day, yet he didn't have a "best buddy". He might as well shoot his shot, right? "Wait!" he called out. Almost at the door now, Octavius stopped in his tracks. "What is it?" he inquired, heading back toward Squidward for a moment. The octopus was nervous, beginning to sweat lightly. "I don't really know any other clarinetists," he admitted with a subtle shrug. "Do you want to hang out sometime? Maybe we could play our instruments together." "Sure, why not?" Octavius nodded politely and smiled. "I could come over to your place sometime and we could practice a duet or something." The two of them exchanged information on where they lived, making sure they were both alone. After that, they shook hands one more time.

Octavius rubbed the back of his neck, giving Squidward a nervous glance. "Before I go, I have a little confession to make," he said. Squidward's eyes were wide with anticipation. "My band and I weren't supposed to be on until 10:00," he admitted. "I just didn't like seeing you get mistreated like that." The octopus's expression changed. For a moment, it looked like the sentiment touched his heart. Did someone actually CARE about how he was treated? "Want to hang out next week Sunday?" Octavius asked. "Sure. Sounds great!" The two of them waved at each other. Then, Octavius and his band exited the shop. 

For the first time in a while, Squidward felt genuine happiness, and he looked forward to their next encounter. He left the café, strutting confidently toward his recumbent bicycle. The mollusk climbed onto the bright-red bike, pedaling back to his house. When he arrived, he parked outside and entered his abode. In a good mood, he walked upstairs and opened one of his windows. He pulled out his clarinet and began playing it preppily, for once, his world at peace.