Young kid comes up, end of the night, sits down at the bar. It’s been a lonnnng late show, nobody drinking. I have served water for the last two hours, nothing else. Lots of fun.
He waves me over, says, I just turned 21 two days ago. Yesterday, I went to a party, so I couldn’t come out. This is my first night out for my birthday. I say, OK. He says, I’ve been playing music here since I was in the eighth grade. Do you think I could have a free birthday shot? I think for a second, then say, no. Your birthday’s over my friend. Sorry.
I didn’t really mean that sorry. It’s just something a guy has to say.
I walk away, go do something, like organize pens. I’ve done everything else. The kid comes up to me, leans over the bar, gets my attention. Hey, man. It’s fine if you don’t want to give me a free shot. I’ll just buy one. I say, sure. What can I get you? He says, I’ll take a shot of whiskey. I say, any preference? He says, Jameson. I say, you got it. Shot of Jameson coming right up.
I get the shot glass, the Jameson bottle, pour, he hands me a credit card, I run it, put it down in front of him, say, here you go. Thanks. He says, one more thing. I say, yes? Well, he says, about a month ago, my band played here, and I don’t think you liked us. You turned the lights on on us at the end of the show before we were done.
I don’t remember a lot of bands, but I know EXACTLY what he’s talking about.
I say, oh yeah. That was THE WORST BAND I’ve ever seen at the bar. He says, I know, I know. It was bad. We just got added to the bill last minute, we didn’t really know what we were doing.
This band seriously sucked. Have you ever heard me say anything bad about a band’s music before? Nope, never. I keep that to myself. Have I ever turned on the overhead lights when a band was playing? Nope, never, no matter how bad they were playing. But this “band” was offensive. I’m going to describe it to you right now. Imagine, you go outside, and you pick five people randomly off the street. You tell them to come into the bar. You hand them guitars, picks, bass, drum sticks. Then you say, ok. We’re going to turn up the volume on your amp all the way. Then I want you to strum your instruments as hard as you can. The notes don’t matter, don’t worry about the notes. As long as there’s sound coming out of the amps, and really, really, loud, you’re doing exactly what I want you to do. Drummer. No need to play a beat. Just pound on the drums really hard. Then whoever feels like it, scream at the top of your lungs into the microphone. Do I want you to sing words? I don’t care. Scream about the last time you went to the grocery store. I BOUGHT APPLES AND CHEETOS AND COUNT CHOCULA CEREAL AND BUNS AND….
What we’re trying to accomplish here is to clear out the room. And then the next thing I want you to accomplish is you piss off the employees so much, that the bartender turns on all the lights, and the sound guy cuts the sound.