3 days, 3 shows, 0 arrests (Part 3)

I awake on the floor in Spokane. A welcome change after sleeping in our mini-van of doom. The house is filled with bands: Us, Lack of Respect, and The Contra. We have a show tonight at the Zombie Room. First order of business, take a dump at Safeway.

When you're in a band on the road, taking a dump is a special thing. Rest Areas are the most convenient, but the most disgusting. If you actually get a home to crash at, you feel kinda guilty taking a dump at their place. A musician's dump is monumental. Add fast food, a ton of alcohol, and a fear of rest areas, and you find yourself with a fecal drop-off that can contaminate a substantial radius. You don't want to offend your host, so you seek other options. Starbucks is usually my favorite. Clean bathrooms and horrible corporate music. Perfect. But no Starbucks in sight, we choose Safeway.

This Safeway is great. They put extra loud music in the bathroom, so noone can hear your movements. Also, an extremely effective aerosol that kills all odor. Safeway may be my new place to go for BMs.

Enough for anal splattage, we chill at LOR's place for the rest of the day. A BBQ is in progress, and we're all ready for a great night. LOR has advertised our show and got the best sound guy in the area to run sound. They put money into advertising and let everyone know there's some good music about to occur. What could go wrong?

Four hours before the show, the Zombie Room sends us an email that the show is cancelled. The reason they cite is that they "forgot" to renew their alcohol license.

Lesson 1: Check if your venue has a valid alchohol license.

Ray and Jean act quick and visit every bar in town to get a show. While they are doing this, THE THEM proceed to open every alcoholic beverage possible and start guzzling. 800 miles of driving, getting $500 in tickets, and having two bad shows in a row will compell the most righteous to take a drink.

Which is ironic. The last time THE THEM played with The Contra was in Bellingham, our most innebriated show ever. That show set guidelines for THE THEM drinking before playing. We were actually determined not to drink before the show just to prove ourselves to The Contra. Apparently, 1000 miles on the road can change anyone's resolve.

Ray and Jean return with an alternate venue for the bands to play: The Swamp Tavern. This place is a great place to drink, but out of the way, ie. no one knows about it. Karen puts up a sign at the Zombie Room that the show has changed to a new location. Day, kinda, saved.

Meanwhile, drinking and merriment continues. When things are fucked, you tend to not care about the outcome. The Contra introduced us to a new beer drinking game, Beer Darts. You throw darts at beer. If your dart pierces the beer, the opposing team shotguns it through the hole.

Fuck it, we buy hard alcohol. What could go wrong?

In addition to the alcohol, The Swamp gives all the band free beer all night long. Free micro-brews! I drink my fill of Manny's. I think we were going on before LOR, but I was wrong. We're going on last. Oops. Alcohol kicks in.

Sonic Death Ray puts on a great show. The Contra puts on awesome show. Lack of Respect put on a flawless show to the largest crowd. And, then, we go on

First note, no one there except a few band members. Second song, my bass is out of tune because it hit the mic stand. Third song, the batteries on my wireless go dead mid-song. Fourth song, I forgot I was still out of tune after replacing the batteries. About two people in our audience now. We finally get it together to finish our drunken set to a wonderful audience of only the other band members.

Lesson 2 (RELEARNED): Don't play drunk.

Afterwards, a giant woman shows up at LOR's place. She is now labeled "The Gunt". This woman ate everything in sight. She was acompanied by an over-medicated woman who just took an ambien. "The Gunt" ate all the remainder of the BBQ as well as her bag of chips. She was a human toilet bowl of hunger. I'm surprised any band member has their fingers left.

Yup, we leave the next day and arrive home. To our surprise, the police run in behind us as we're unloading our equipment in Seattle. I'm like "O' fuck, not again" but they are not after us.

"Have you seen a guy running around with a gun?"

"Oh shit no!" I said, and start ducking behind the van. The police shrug their shoulders and head into our rehearsal studio.

C0me to find out, Terry is drunk and brandishing a BB gun. He's terrorizing another band that's standing outside. A perfect welcome home.

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