Monthly Archives: October 2015

Best Friends After That

There’s a guy here at the bar. I don’t like him. I’ve never liked him. The reasons are numerous. I don’t need to go into them here. 

I’m a firm believer in, you gotta problem with someone, you tell them. Why bottle it up?  Why talk behind their back?  If the opportunity presents itself, why not let it rip?  You’ll feel better about it, in the long run. Hey, who knows, it might clear the air, you become best friends after that. This actually happened to me in high school. I hated this guy, he pissed me off so much. We got into it one day in the library, we called a truce, then I swear, we became best friends after that. 

The guy comes up to the bar, the one I don’t like, maybe my future new best friend. I know he moved away six months ago, maybe he’s just visiting. I say, hey. He says, hey. I say, what’s going on?  He says, well…I moved back from Ohio. I say, oh that sucks. 

I was really happy that you had left. 

He laughed, and now we have a dinner date. 

-Clint Curtis

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An Internet Star “Plays” The Mews

We had an Internet star play the Mews tonight. Ok, “play” is a stretch. He didn’t have a band, he didn’t have an instrument. He stood in front of the stage, and teenage girls took pictures with him. Yeah, what’s the catch, right?  No catch. Come in, pay $20 cover, get to spend 30 seconds with an Internet star. Hug him, take a picture with him. They had merch too, and by the look of it, they sold a lot. They had at least twenty people show up for it. And when I say at least twenty, I mean 215. That’s $20 a head. You do the math. 

Now I’m standing behind the bar for the late show, the second band is on stage, playing hard rock. I look around the room, there’s twenty people tops. And by twenty, I mean fourteen. I try to get my head wrapped around it. 

Band plays together for years, spends thousands and thousands on gear, on recording. They play, make $5. 

Seventeen year old kid does 6 second Vine videos, comes to the Mews, makes thousands. 

This is where I shake my head, and say I don’t understand. But I won’t. 

Because that would mean I’m old. 

-Clint Curtis
  

Waiting For Pizza

Guy comes up to the bar, sits down. I say he’s late 40’s, early 50’s. It looks like his hair is bleached. He’s wearing one of those cheap hats you get in Las Vegas. You know, the ones with the see-thru green bill. 

He says, I’m waiting for my pizza. Can I have a Coors Light? He’s slurring his words a bit, but not too bad. I say, sure. I get it for him, set it down, go help another customer. 

People do this all the time. Across the street from us is a pizza place. They order a pizza over there, come over here, have a quick drink, then go back over when it’s ready. We help each other out. We don’t serve food, anybody asks for a late night snack, I send them over there. And we let them eat their pizza over here. I do hate having to clean up after them with those damn pizza boxes, but whatevs. 

I bartend. It’s pretty slow actually. I’m dragging. Been a long day. 

Half-hour goes by, I notice Vegas guy is just chatting it up with a guy. Huh. Maybe he forgot about his pizza. Well…not my prob. 

Another fifteen minutes goes by, I go up to him, I say, your pizza must be getting cold by now. He says, yeah. Is it ready?

What?

I say, probably. 

He says, am I in the wrong place?

-Clint Curtis

Mindless

The lead singer on stage screams, THIS SONG IS FOR ALL YOU MINDLESS MOTHERFUCKERS IN THE CROWD. 

The crowd screams in jubilation. 

I do a double-take. 

Wha?

He calls you mindless, AND a motherfucker, and you scream?

The show ends, the kids jumble up to the bar, say, is water for free?

I think about being sarcastic, but it’s really not worth it. 

They just got called mindless. That’s enough for the night.  

-Clint Curtis

Which Side Is The Gas Tank On?

Why is it, every time I pull in the gas station, I have to rack my brain to figure out which side my gas tank is on?  If I didn’t cheat, and look in my side mirror, I’d be sitting in front of the pumps for days. My family has two vehicles. The wife mainly drives a Volvo station wagon, and I drive a Ford Escape. On the Ford, if you look in the mirror, you can see that there’s a lip where you put your finger in to open up the gas tank. But on the Volvo, there’s none. It’s flush. And you have to push a button. I have gotten out of her car, numerous times, gone to the gas tank, and then realized, damn it!  I have to go push the button. You have to go back in the car, figure out WHERE the button is, push it, then go back to the gas tank. It’s always quite humorous when you do the whole thing, go back to the gas tank, then realize, shit. I didn’t push the button hard enough!!!!

-Clint Curtis

Cab Ride To Marshaltown

It’s nearing 1am, musician comes up, orders a Jack and Coke. It’s about his 4th one. He leans in, says, how late does the cabs run until?

Actually, the band playing is extremely loud, so it’s more like,

HOW LATE DOES THE CABS RUN UNTIL?!?

So know that the conversation following was us yelling at each other, but I don’t feel like capping the whole thing. 

Anyway, I say, I don’t know. Past two I guess. 

He nods, says, past two?

I say, yeah. Where you going?  He says, Marshaltown. I say, yeah. There’s a cab stand on Court. You know where Court is?  He says, no. I say, you go out the door, and…

Wait. DID YOU SAY MARSHALTOWN???

He says, yeah. 

I say, you’re taking a cab to Marshaltown?!?!

He says, yeah. 

But he says it in a way, as if I just asked him if he likes the color red. 

I say, um…how far is Marshaltown?  He says, little over an hour. I say, hell, man, that’s a long cab ride. How much that cost?

He says, probably $120. I’m fortunate, though. It’s not that big of a deal. 

I believe it. He’s been tipping good all night. 

I ask him, the most logical question. 

Did you get a DUI?

He takes a pause. Then overlaps the pause with another pause. Then he says, not exactly. 

He goes into the story how he “didn’t exactly” get a DUI, but it doesn’t matter. 

The point is, the guy’s taking a cab to Marshaltown. And that’s a ridiculous long time to take a cab ride. 

Dude shoulda just flown in. 

-Clint Curtis

South By

I’m behind the bar, late show, just getting started. About ten people scattered about, musicians sitting at the bar, sipping Coors Banquets, and Strongbows.

I overhear one of the band members say to the other, you remember that time at South By… Yeah, South By wasn’t that great this year.

For those of you who live under mounds and mounds of garbage, South By is short for South By Southwest. THE hipster music festival in Austin, Texas. I must admit, when I’ve heard a band played “South By”, I’m usually impressed.

I want to get a band together. Pick the best musicians money can’t buy. Rehearse, get good, get really good, record an album, release it, to critical acclaim. Then I want to book a couple shows at South By, because hell, we’re so hot right now, why WOULDN’T we play South By? ┬áThen I want to casually hang out in music venues before we play South By, and NONCHALANTLY talk to my bandmates about how we’re going to play South By, well…when we play a couple shows at South By. (When you’re really up-and-coming, you don’t just play one show at South By. You play A COUPLE SHOWS at South By).

Then, after we play our show(s) at South By I’ll break up the band, because, really, all I ever wanted to accomplish with the band is to be able to say, yeah, I’m playing South By,

Instead of all the RUBES that say, I’m going to South By Southwest.

-Clint Curtis