Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Hotels and rockers part 2

Just a quick note, if you haven't read the "Hotels and Rockers don't mix" blog, you may want to read that first. This blog references some things off that blog. Thanks


Well it's day 2 of our fabulous tour of Kalkaska. Needless to say from my previous post, we were in pretty bad shape. I think I got up around 6:30 and was the first one up. I then strolled out in the hallway to assess the damage. After a couple "Holy S@#t$" I went back in my room and laid back down for another hour or so. After another hour or so we were all up and after everyone was showered, we went downstairs to get a bite to eat. The owner of the club came up to take our order. I don't remember a whole lot about the previous evening, but the owner was pretty quick to remind us of some of the things that happened yet he seemed frustrated as to where he could prove that we were responsible for any or everything that happened. As he took our orders, he would casually mention things like, " I got in my car this morning and it smelled like someone peed in my convertable." Now I don't exactly remember who, but I do remember someone mentioning that something was like target practice and we all should try. I just smiled and told him "That sucks". When he brought out our salads, he said something to the fact of "Does any know who the naked girl locked out on the roof was last night?" I do remember that incident and she was only locked out there for about a 15 minutes, but didn't know her name, so honestly, I told him no, I didn't know her. In that instance, I remember the drummer talking this girl into being kinky and doing it on the roof. He then took her out there and after she took off her clothes, he grabbed them and ran back inside, closing the door behind him. You have to remember, we were a party band and although it doesn't give us a license to do so, we did some pretty stupid things. After finishing our meals and receiving multiple evil glares from the owner, we retired back to our rooms to change into our stage clothes.
It was showtime and our singer was no where to be found. We had thought we looked everywhere when one of the waitresses came upstairs and told us that he was sitting at the bar. This was not a good thing because, if you remember, the hospital had given him a large quantity of valium. Lo and behold, there he was, washing down the valium with shots of Jack and Budweiser. We managed to get him on stage where he basically laid the whole show on his side mumbling the lyrics as we tried to make up the difference by turning our guitars up louder to hide whatever it was that he was singing. I was actually surprised when the audience still applauded and ranted about how good we were after the show. They must have been pretty drunk too. All I remember is that my head hurt really bad. Part from a really huge hangover and partially from banging my head on my bass. I guess I should mention this incident. While we were trying to cover for the singers drug induced drunken stupor, we all became more animated on stage than usual. We were a big hair band so this was widely acceptable behavior. I think it was during our rendition of Motley Crue's "Looks that Kill" that I was banging my head and somehow managed to hit the strap lock on my bass. I didn't think a whole lot about it until about 1 minute later when "George the roadie" came up to me with duct tape. I asked him what the heck he was doing and he proceeded to wipe my head with a towel. Thinking that I was only sweating from all the exersion of banging my head, I looked at the towel. The darn thing had a lot of red on it. While thinking to myself "Damn dude, that's so cool" "George" had made a butterfly bandaid out of duct tape and was taping the wound closed. Apparently it was a pretty big cut cuz at the end of the night when the lights came on, there was quite a bit of blood splatter on my side of the stage. I guess when you really enjoy what you're doing, you don't notice some of the things you should, like maybe, a massive head wound. When everything was said and done, it turned out to be a fairly decent night. We were lucky.
One of the nice things about this gig was that we didn't have to tear down our equipment until the next day. That left an opening for some of us to try and get a good nights rest and recover from the previous night. But it also left time for the die hard partiers to pick up where they left off. Sure enough, after a couple hours I kept hearing this banging noise and started to wonder what the F was going on. I peeked out the door in time to see "George" kicking open one of the doors to a room and rush in to take pictures of one of the band members boinking someone. Apparently, he had done this just a few minutes prior to one of the other band members and thought it was funny. Predictably, the second band member he did this too didn't find it particularily funny and proceeded to start punching until a full out brawl was in order. I shook my head and went back to bed, but not before I rushed to "George's" aid with a roll of duct tape. The irony sometimes can amaze you. That pretty much ruined the party spirit for everyone and people went home early enough to where, it seemed, that we were all going to get a decent nights sleep. Thank God for small favors.

The next morning we got up and showered, mind you that my room and one of the other guitar players room were the only two left with working toilets, we all went downstairs to the club to load up our equipment. I went into the office to get paid. After the bar tab was taken out and watching a short video of our second night there and "George" peeing on the owners car a second time, we gratiously accepted our $500 pay, 1/3 of what we were supposed to get. Although I swore I saw steam coming out of the owners ears, he gently said that he didn't think that he would be having us back. I told him I understood and left the office. I did learn a pretty cool catch phrase that day tho. Our guitar player, who had scored with one of the waitresses the previous night, turned as we were walking out the door and told this waitress, "Thanks for the Mammaries". I don't think I laughed that hard in quite a while.

Well that's about all I have regarding that weekend. Tho' it was a pretty active one, it wasn't our worst or best. So as my memory slowly returns from my dillusions of the past, I will happily relay them to you here. So stay tuned folks :)

1 Comments:

Anonymous lulu said...

you are so cool.

9:40 PM  

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Your emotional maturity is fully developed, and you have an excellent grasp on your emotions. In fact, you are so emotionally mature - you should consider being a therapist!
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