Musician comes up after the show, I say, hey man, great job. Really appreciate you playing tonight. He says, thanks, man. We had a great time.
I have had this exact same exchange 2.7 million times in the last 10 years.
He comes back moments later, puts a patch down on the bar. He says, hey, man. I want you to have this. Hey, thanks, I say. Really appreciate it.
What am I, 14 with the patches? I’m wearing a damn cardigan, for God’s sake. Do I look like I sew punk rock patches on my Brooks Brother’s sweaters?
But, of course, as they say, it’s the thought…
Later on, maybe an hour, show’s way over, late show has begun. I’m bored, I turn to the register, with my back to the crowd, I see the patch, I absentmindedly grab it, and toss it in the trash,
And it’s like sllllllllow motion, I turn as the patch has just been released from my fingertips,
The guy is standing before me.