Every once in awhile I’m going to start writing about things that happened to me in my life that are maybe, unexpected, never heard before, slightly interesting and probably weird on occasion…
Here is today’s memory from BACK IN THE DAY:
When I was 21 years old I somehow found myself in this rundown “ bad side of the tracks” town called Hillyard…… I really have zero memory of how this happened but I do think that I remember who I went with and that she wanted to catch some band playing that night.
I was working at the bar/restaurant and after my shift I changed out of the pink shirt and Keds into something more…. Black. Tight jeans, black shirt, sleeves rolled up, black boots, belt that wasn’t the kind used for keeping pants up but more of an accessory, it was black, buckled in the back and had a couple of chains on it. Throw on extra eyeliner and pump in more hairspray and I was good to go….
To a biker bar.
This was a few levels above my pay grade. I was nervous. I hoped that I was dressed in a way that didn’t scream “ I just turned 21! AND I’m afraid of you” I was going for more of a casual, “ ya, I’m in a biker bar, and what the fuck do you care?” Kind of thing…
Her boyfriend was there and already had a table. I ran to the bathroom where several people, men and women, were just snorting coke off the sink, you know, your average bar experience…. They were polite though and did offer me a “bump.” Not being exactly a church mouse, I declined knowing that ONE bump leads to THREE hours of withdrawal, so thanks but I’m good. They stared at me… Waiting for my answer to change… “ I had the worst fucking allergic reaction to that shit once! Never doing that again” and they loosened back up.
Back at the table there was a drink waiting for me. Whiskey and coke, which I loathe, but, when I’m Rome, I guess….
The room was dark and thick with smoke and LOUD as a band played. No one seemed to pay attention, I scanned the room trying to take it all in as I guess that I couldn’t see this happening again, snorting coke off the bar, weed at a couple tables, no one made direct eye contact which was good. The shitty band grinded a guitar solo and the drums wrapped up the night for the worst band I’d ever heard.
I thought we were done and I was good to go home but this guy, big hair, more eyeliner than me, really thin build, ripped jeans, a similar belt to mine, denim shirt half way unbuttoned, a few guys looking much the same stood behind him, a soft gentle nervous voice comes over the microphone “Hey, so, a, we’re going to play for a bit. Hang on” and the girl’s boyfriend says, yells, actually, “ This is them! They’re fucking awesome, man!”
And this voice comes out of this dude, pitch perfect. He’s nervous but starts to settle in “ Wait for this shit!” Yells the boyfriend guy…
And for an hour I’m front row at a Steelheart concert. Like, four feet away. The air in the room changes, people sit down, they yell “ Fuck ya!” At the end of songs and “ Fucking A, Dude” and the room starts vibrating with magic. And we’re all making eye contact and suddenly we’re old friends with everyone and people start throwing their fists in the air and I was absolutely right…. I’d never experience that again and I’m glad I didn’t because it made that night really special and something to tell my kids about.
Thanks for reading… now go to YouTube and find one of their songs!
Me