Tuesday
On the drive to St.Louis, I collect data. I count the number of times that Erick's head nods from side to side while he sleeps sitting up straight, not leaning on anything. I count the number of times that Jeff enters the van's estimated mileage per gallon into his computer. I count how many times Paul runs his hands through his hair. I also note that Jeff is reading a new Internet Café Mystery paperback. [Jeff: It was a book called Terminal Café, and I don't think the words "internet" or "mystery" were anywhere to be found.]
On the drive, I see the largest roadside cross that I've ever viewed. It's bigger than anything I've seen in the Deep South, the Pacific Northwest, and even in Roma, Italy. We must have lots o' God in rural Missouri. Ironically today we get the announcement about selection of the new pope. I wonder if there is a connection. Many trees near the highway sport hand-painted sign that state "Jesus in the only way".
As we drive with all windows down and fresh air blowing in, the robust scent of cow manure fills the air. I plug in to the power converter and play computer Boggle.
We arrive in at Lil Nickie's Grill and Chill around 6 pm. The club is located in a non-urban area. It's basically a restaurant with a big stage at one end. The girl behind the bar is extremely friendly and she tells me she hopes people show up tonight. Every bar in St. Louis has been dead for a month. All St. Louis bars have been experiencing horrible financial losses in the last month. Maybe because of tax season?, she theorizes.
I go and join Erick, Jeff, and Paul, who are already sitting down at tables. Just then Super Fan Mike B from Memphis walks in the door. He's driven 6 hours to see the show. We catch up on all that has happened in the 4 weeks since we've seen him last. He's brought all sorts of media for Apes to enjoy. Since he's staying at a Motel only 10 miles away, we are invited to stay with him. We order food. We eat. I leave. I go walk up and down the block outside, alone. There is a park next to the club and several gentlemen in the park call to me. They want me to join them! How nice but I don't need company at the moment. I wander around side streets and find the fancy coffee place. Yes. We sound check and then are informed that the promoter has called. He wants to push the show back and have it start much later. There is another huge show going on and he wants to see if we wait for that one to end, people will come over to Lil Nickie's Grill and Chill. This is a great idea because most people do want to watch 2 bands that they've never heard at 12:30 am on a Tuesday night.
Mike wants to take us back to his motel.
We pile in his car. He wants to know if I'm taking my calcium supplements that he gave me in Memphis. I sure am.
Back at the motel, he shows us all the things he's brought-a Yes album, Dig, the movie, on DVD, another version of Streets and Trips, the map program for our laptops. He brought protein bars for me. We watch something on the television. After a while, I report that I would like to return to the club. I notice that Mike has a bottle of beer in one hand and a case in the other.
"How many beers have you had?" I ask.
"Well, lemme see, since around 3:00 pm, I've had about 12." And then I notice he's slurring slightly and cackling. I don't like this. It's my mission to keep my band as safe as possible and I have no intention at dying in a passenger vehicle on a St. Louis freeway at the hands of a drunken friend. The boys egg him on. Jeff says, "You're gonna drive us off a bridge aren't ya….hahaha…" more laughter, cackling. The boys make fun of his slurring. Erick says, "This was your big plan all along, right? Pretend you like the band just long enough to drive 'em off the bridge!" Hahaha! Everyone's whooping and cracking up. I am not a happy girl.
We arrive at the club unharmed. There are several folks in attendance that saw our last show in St.Louis, in the basement of Lemon's, a pizza place we played 3 years ago.
The show is actually really fun and we are tight. I feel mind-locking action going on and I'm enjoying my Sans Amp. The 15 or so people that are in the audience seem to be quite engaged as well. After the show, I've forgiven Mike for his intoxicity and I'll be driving the boys to the motel in our van.
While we are loading out, a woman who appears to be down on her luck approaches my little group on the sidewalk.
She says, "un bluh bluh unnnsss".
We say, "What?"
She says, "You donts got to worry, I is potty trained."
They watch television back at the motel. I put in earplugs and go briefly to sleep. [Jeff: First we break out my brilliant new system for bringing some equality to the sleeping arrangements; i.e., drawing straws. Delightfully, Paul and I come in last, meaning we sleep on the floor while Erick & Amanda get the other bed in the room, just like always.]
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