Day 2
We go back to the club around noon to pick up our equipment and wander in search of food. I can't read the ingredients on the labels. Panic sets in. I eat something with lots of mayo.
We head back to Amsterdam to the airport to collect Jeff's duffle bag and then depart for the best music venue in Europe -- the Vera in Gronigen.
After load in, Erick and I go off in search of the coffee shop where we discovered good coffee for the first time. I also buy a bra (I only brought one with me) and a red tank top at the local HEMA. As we walk our town, I am aware of how we might be the only people around under 6 feet tall.
Back at the Vera, we get a comprehensive sound check. The man running the lights asks me if I have any requests. I say, "MMMmmm….how bout lots of colors." He must find this funny because he turns to another club person and says…"spraichen..dutch dutch dutch…lots of colors, HAHAHA!"
I go upstairs to check email and try to arrange for places to crash in the United Kingdom on our several nights off.
There is a big dinner of Dutch Chinese take out and more excellent free coffee. The band members adjourn to the stage-side dressing room and shit talk about exercise habits and substance use (or lack thereof). We compare weird passport pictures. My favorites are always Paul the shaven-headed frat boy and Erick, the young starving Russian communist. Amanda the smiling young nun is only a little funny. Prior to showtime, The Apes change into their costumes. I try and plan a little monologue to start the show because I get to use Paul's vocal effects pedal to make myself into my favorite him-shim, Lee.
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There is a good rapport established with the compact audience and the rock begins!
The show is going great until Jeff's drum throne falls between the cracks of the stage and my delay pedal disengages. I shudder at the silence where my echo is supposed to be ringing out. I just turn and watch Jeff finish the second song standing up. [Jeff: I knew this was going to happen. In order to leave Paul room to move, I pulled my drums back as far as I could, which had the feet of my stool about an inch from the gap where the main stage ended and the drum riser (which we weren't using) began. In my clumsy thrashings, the stool slipped backward that fatal measure, the feet went into the gap, and the whole stool fell over, leaving me in a deep squat.]
After the show, I rush back to the dressing room to exchange large white sweaty panties for large white dry panties. My hips are warm, Mom! I have time to scratch a little before selling merch.
There are many very friendly folks in the crowd and only one spills their drink all over the merchandise. To make her feel better, I give her a free pin and some stickers. We drink whiskey.
After the show, many of us go downstairs to enjoy the after hours bar and the remaining drink tickets. Erick and I meet two young lads who missed the show but were willing to discuss stereotypical American behaviors with us until 3.45 am. I was really enjoying telling them that Americans really do walk into work every morning with giant cups of foamy lattes and whip cream.
When we head up to our sleeping quarters at 4 am, I am starving. The kitchen is locked. There is no food anywhere. I remember my emergency can of nutrition in my sleeping bag. I go hide in the toilet stall and eat it so Erick doesn't smell it and scream at me. It's not enough. I never sleep because I am too hungry and jet lagged and I can't stop scratching.
At 10 am, I get up and wander around. I try on some clothes. Nothing fits. The lady suggests Gap Kids.
Back at Vera, they have provided a giant breakfast meal. I eat too much. A few hours later, we head for Amsterdam.
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