I don’t know enough about statute of limitations to participate in this thread.
Everyone (should) make mistakes in Vegas.“What happens in Vegas…..”
Ends up on here
Everyone (should) make mistakes in Vegas.
But that’s different than touring in a band before cellphones.
And/or divorced.Can you imagine how many of us would be in jail right now?
And/or divorced.
Oh heck yes, I’m glad camera phones didn’t come about until early 2000’s, I’d have been in so much trouble!
So it was about 1997.
We had a gig about 100 miles from home for the Ladies Netball Association.
It was a Dinner/Dance and awards evening.
It was bizarre because there wasn’t a guy in the audience.
I should mention that we travelled to the gig separately and as I arrived I was met by the other guitarist and bass player. I thought it was weird, because normally I was never greeted outside the gig.
They told me that Stu (the other guitarist) had left both his guitars outside his house and there was no way that he was going to get back there and back to the gig in time.
Luckily I had brought two guitars.
So all went well with the gig.
As the drinks flowed, we had more of the audience dancing on the stage with us than on the dance floor, which was of course terrible as most were athletic and gorgeous.
The funny thing is that if we had been a bunch of girls performing for an all male audience, some of the behaviour would not have been tolerated.
Anyhoo. It was pack up time.
The gig was up a huge flight of stairs. So I parked my car near to the door and brought my gear down bit by bit. Locking the car each time, as I was safety conscious.
On my last trip, I opened the fire door and stepped outside to see a young couple making out on the bonnet of my car. I coughed loudly and they apologised and moved off.
I went upstairs to say my goodbyes and went back to my car.
The exit was between the back of a bunch of buildings, restaurants, shops, bars etc. There were delivery entrances to a lot of the businesses. The sort that a truck could pull up to and the driver could roll a cage of stuff into the premises.
So I turn a corner, my headlights pick out a pale white bum moving backwards and forwards a some rate. And a pair of legs, one either side of the bum. Yes it was the same young couple. Luckily for them (and me) they’d found somewhere else other than my car.
It gave me something to laugh about on the journey home.
It was a bizarre evening though.
You should have rolled down the window, tapped the horn, and yelled, "See? I'm horny, too!"
I once had the pleasure of making uncomfortable small talk with the mother of some groupie our drummer was (loudly) banging in the van on the busy street in front of a club in Oregon.So it was about 1997.
We had a gig about 100 miles from home for the Ladies Netball Association.
It was a Dinner/Dance and awards evening.
It was bizarre because there wasn’t a guy in the audience.
I should mention that we travelled to the gig separately and as I arrived I was met by the other guitarist and bass player. I thought it was weird, because normally I was never greeted outside the gig.
They told me that Stu (the other guitarist) had left both his guitars outside his house and there was no way that he was going to get back there and back to the gig in time.
Luckily I had brought two guitars.
So all went well with the gig.
As the drinks flowed, we had more of the audience dancing on the stage with us than on the dance floor, which was of course terrible as most were athletic and gorgeous.
The funny thing is that if we had been a bunch of girls performing for an all male audience, some of the behaviour would not have been tolerated.
Anyhoo. It was pack up time.
The gig was up a huge flight of stairs. So I parked my car near to the door and brought my gear down bit by bit. Locking the car each time, as I was safety conscious.
On my last trip, I opened the fire door and stepped outside to see a young couple making out on the bonnet of my car. I coughed loudly and they apologised and moved off.
I went upstairs to say my goodbyes and went back to my car.
The exit was between the back of a bunch of buildings, restaurants, shops, bars etc. There were delivery entrances to a lot of the businesses. The sort that a truck could pull up to and the driver could roll a cage of stuff into the premises.
So I turn a corner, my headlights pick out a pale white bum moving backwards and forwards a some rate and a pair of legs, one either side of the bum. Yes it was the same young couple. Luckily for them (and me) they’d found somewhere else other than my car.
It gave me something to laugh about on the journey home.
It was a bizarre evening though.
I once had the pleasure of making uncomfortable small talk with the mother of some groupie our drummer was (loudly) banging in the van on the busy street in front of a club in Oregon.
I should clarify that it was only uncomfortable for me. The mom just acted like it was no big deal to listen to her daughter getting it on in public with a dude who looked like Frank Stallone.
Cultural differences can make for some interesting gig experiences. My Rush tribute band was booked for a gig in a smallish rural town in Quebec back in the late 90's. This was a gig where we had to bring in our own sound and lights guy and gear, in addition to all the instruments you can imagine are required for a Rush tribute show. We get there early (like suppertime) so we can get the PA, lights and monitor up before the gear. Unfortunately, there is some small-time beer-league football team having their year-end bash and they wouldn't let us have the stage until they were done their shenanigans, which involved chugging pitchers of beer on-stage (one guy succeeded long enough to puke it all back in the pitcher immediately after chugging - fun times).Hmmm...maybe.
Being Canadian, you may recall the days of the FLQ (anglasize to Front to Liberate Quebec). Lots of bad stuff happened. This may or may not be related.
My band was booked into a small lumber town in northern Quebec. All our songs were in English. Somebody convinced the owner to book a French singer. She showed up with friends, but no band, and sheet music for one song. I was the only one who could read music, so I gave it a shot. It was terrible. We started playing our set and the audience didn’t really care that we sang in English.
We did 4 sets between 9pm and 2am. The bar sold lots of booze. People laughed, danced and had a good time.
After the show, the singer talked to me about some of her Montreal friends. The next week, the place burned to the ground.
I dunno… maybe the mom really thought it was Frank Stallone?Awkward!
Classy Bird.