Daily Archives: November 14, 2013

Against the wind

Day 55: Bethel Road Pub
Columbus, OH

Waking up knowing that there are pancakes on the horizon is one of the best feelings in the world. Waking up knowing that Ben Crawford is making pancakes completely negates the fact that I only got 3 hours of sleep.
When we stay at our friends houses I like to try and be one of the first ones up so that I can shower and wake up in a non rushed manner. I took that ‘thankfully-last-night-I-pretty-much-drank-just-one-type-of-liquor-so-the-room-isn’t-spinning’ shower, then sat on the couch and realized that when we watched it earlier that morning, we had talked through almost the whole episode of The Walking Dead, so I could only remember parts of it. So I queued it up and watched it while I waited for our crew of zombies to rise up from their mostly dead states and get their day started. Everyone awoke in time for breakfast, and the healing powers of Ben’s pancakes and Gail’s breakfast casserole brought everyone back to a less comatose state.
Soon, it was time to head out to Ohio. We said our goodbyes to Amanda and Stephanie, then the rest of us shipped out too. I rode with Gail and Ben to keep them company as they were making the ride to Columbus for the show. We dropped of their daughter at Gail’s parents house, then hit the highway. Somewhere along the way we realized that we were very close to catching up to the guys who were on the bus, even though we had left almost 45 minutes after them and also had made a couple of stops . (That’s why I jokingly call the bus ‘our tortuga’….. Slow and steady)
It was getting dark out, and I wanted to wave as we passed them, so I took off my glasses, hung them on my shirt, set my phone’s flashlight to strobe, and rolled the window down. Holding my phone super tight so the wind wouldn’t take it, I brought myself close to the plane of the open window. As we passed the bus, I waved and pointed the strobe in their general direction do they would notice me. What I didn’t count on was a gust of wind screaming across the plains, battering the car and sucking my glasses right out the window. It took a second, but after the shock set in, so did the realization that not only were my glasses gone, I was also on the last pair of my contacts…. And they were about too old to keep using. Cursing, I resigned myself to the fact that there was nothing that I could do in the present, but that it was an issue that I had to deal with asap.
We got to the pub after the guys had already loaded the gear in and I found out that we were in charge of running the door for the show. (No, the bus doesn’t have a rocket engine hidden somewhere on it… We had to stop by Gail and Ben’s hotel so they could check in!) Before I started playing door guy, Nate, Stevie, Gail, Ben, and I went to the next door restaurant to grab some dinner. Oddly enough, this was only our second time having a real sit down Mexican dinner of the tour. It seems we’re slacking something fierce.
After dinner we went back to the club and I assumed my responsibility as doorman. It was awesome to meet long time fan Mike, and finally to meet Ohio twitter fan Samantha and her friend Lilly.
One thing though, let me tell you, running the door is one of the most boring, thankless jobs associated with a rock show. It seems like everyone complains that there’s a cover. And it seems everyone wants their girlfriends 2nd cousins coworkers husband to be on the guest list… Or something as equally ridiculous as that. Plus you’re stuck, tied to the entrance of the club, having to stop people that would just as soon walk past you. It’s quite like being a toll booth operator, which they say has one of the highest suicide rates of any profession.
The cover that night was only 3 bucks, and to be fair most people paid without hesitation. There was one middle aged lady, maybe about 45 years old, who when I told her it was 3 bucks to get in, threw her hands up, exclaiming, “Eff that! 3 bucks? I guess I’ll go drink somewhere else!” Then she curtly spun around, and walked out the door, never returning. (At least while we were there.)
It made me wonder, do people realize that most of the time when there’s a cover, that’s how the band is getting paid? With a $3 ticket, which is like the price of a mediocre beer, after you split it, the house has to be packed to the gills for anyone to make any money. I guess that people don’t even think about that. They think the club is taking them twice: at the door, then at the bar.
After load out, and goodbyes to Gail and Ben, we hit the road, trying get a few hours out of the way so the long haul back to Nyc wasn’t so daunting.