Six Things I Hate

This week’s Writing Assignment asks me to list five things I hate. I can’t believe how quickly I came up with five things I hate:

1) Home Parties
2) Costumed Mascots
3) People who leave the empty toilet paper roll hanging on the spool (the epitome of laziness)
4) “Dogs who return to their vomit” – In other words, people who keep making the same mistake over and over and over again
5) What happened at Friday Night’s gig

I’ve blogged about most of this list (barring the toilet paper – but it just ticks me off. There isn’t a story about it.) I haven’t had the opportunity to blog about item five yet – and will do so now.

On Friday, the band played at our perpetual monthly restaurant. We love it there. We have regulars. It’s great when people come and tell me about shows they’ve seen in New York: “Kelly, you’ll love Jersey Boys!” I’m not sure how he knows I’d love it, but I love that he thought of me about it. We love the couple that always comes in for the first hour of our set and leaves when dinner is done. I love them because they never read menus. They have an arrangement with John, the chef. He just makes them what he thinks they’ll like. It’s possible that he doesn’t even know their names!

We love that the owner just bought a new puppy and named her “Cuervo.” We love the middle-aged couple that never misses our shows - I think it’s mostly an opportunity for them to make out at the bar.

A new guy came in on Friday. He sat at the bar – sort of right next to
Dave. He asked us to play a song. “Sorry, Man,” said Dave. “ I know it – but we don’t have it worked out.”

“But it’s only four chords!” replied the Jerk-off.

This ticked Dave off. I hadn’t heard the exchange, or I’d have been ticked too. I was busy singing a song with at least 6 or 7 chords.

To make matters worse, I was already having an off night. I broke my “A” string right at the beginning of the set. In an attempt to keep things rolling, I grabbed Fran’s extra guitar. The cheap leather strap immediately broke. This caused my throat to tighten. I never really “got it back” that night. I was off, I felt like I wasn’t always on key – and I was looking forward to going home.

As we were packing up, the jerk from the bar came over to me and said, “I’ll give you a nice tip if you play Dueling Banjos.” Dave cringed. He reluctantly agreed, for the sake of keeping our client’s clients happy. He retrieves his banjo from the case. The jerk-off customer hands me a ten (I don’t mean to sound ungrateful here, but $10, divided by four is NOT a great tip. It felt cheap. At times like this, I’d rather not be tipped at all.)

So we play the song. We play another. Jerk-off is happy as happy can be. He pulls me aside. “I have a restaurant not far from here. I’d like you guys to play there… I have to tell you, though I advertise. And that costs hundreds of dollars, so you’ll have to play the first gig or two for free. If you draw, we’ll start paying you.”

I glared. I took his number and said, “We’ll talk.”

I waited until he left and looked at my band. “Do I look EIGHTEEN? Do I look like he’s doing me such a great favor? Do we sound like we just started playing last week? Do I look like I'm auditioning here?” Fran piped in, “You know, Paula’s (local band chick) band plays there – and I know they make (he stated their minimum compensation)” Yeah.

Maybe Jerk-off was drunk and didn’t know what he was saying. If I call him, and if he starts that “free gig” stuff again – I’ll have to politely turn him down. I can be gracious. I can tell him we’d really like to play at his establishment, but if we do, we will charge. I'll be nice. I promise!

Before Jerk-off left that night, he asked us if we played any Kingston Trio. (Has anyone seen my eyes? They just rolled outta my head.) My band will agree with me - so without reservation, I must inform you that the Kingston Trio is number six on the list of things I hate.