he alarm goes of. It’s a quarter to nine . Mmmnn. Where am I . Er, oh, I remember a hotel Sheffield somewhere. Morning after the day off before. Milky stirs in the other bed in the room. We both snooze on for 5 minutes. The alarm goes again. Snooze. Alarm. Snooze. Alarm. Snooze. Maid at the door. Can I clean the room? NO, later! Oh sorry sir. Snooze. Alarm. Ten past nine. Get my eyes fully open. Swing my legs out of the bed. Find my feet and shuffle to the loo.
Morning toiletries over. Wander back into the room to find Milky in his boxers, a fine figure of a man, at his trusty Mac on the WWW. Apparently he’s uploaded more pics and some diary entries. Great. Pass over my camera so he can download yesterdays snaps. There has been a message from the Hull crew and Milky had e mailed them to say they are on the guest list for todays gig. Ben will get to meet up with the lovely Jo, aka Sally Webster, again!
A while later (I thought these Macs were supposed to be fast Milky) he hands me back the camera. I can erase the smart card, he's got all the snaps. Switch to playback mode. Hold on! It‘s a pic of me! Asleep, covers thrown asunder, virgin white underpants exposed to the world. Err, Milky, you weren't thinking about uploading this to the web were you? Just in case he was, I format the disk, and snap him at his Mac, in his boxers. Did I mention the fine figure of a man he was?
Make it down to reception to check out. It’s just after 10. Yes sir, that’s £2.80 for phone calls sir. Not for an 0800 number it ain't mate. Yes sir it is there's’ a charge of the use of the phone system. Well I’m not paying it, you’ll have to argue with the other chap he’ll be down any second.
Erik says he’s booked cabs for 10am. It’s ten past, no cabs. Milky arrives. He’s not paying the £2.80 either. He asked to talk to the manager. The manager can’t be bothered to come and talk to the customer, the chap behind the desk relays the decision that its’s OK sir, you don’t have to pay £2.80 just for the privilege of using the phone in your room. Mmmm, fancy that. It’s quarter past, still no cabs.
It’s gone half past. Still no cabs.
It’s twenty to, and guess what, still no cabs, and reception don’t seem to care.
It’s a quarter to and guess what still no... no wait a cab! Hurrah! To the gig my good woman and don’t spare the horses.
We arrive at the gig. It’s all going slowly and steadily.
Catering. Coffee. More coffee. wander back up to the gig. Mmmmnn. It’s still slow and steady. More coffee.
The lampies are finished . The PA is stacked. I get the 8 crew I need to lift the half ton of mixing desk into position.
And it goes on slow and steady.
But wait, what's happened, we are ready to soundcheck the band on time at 4pm!! Wow. First time this tour well done guys.
Hey Gary, when are the band due? 5pm. Oh well.
The band arrive on good spirits from their day off at home. We soundcheck. Today that includes a laid back version of Last Gas, and a full on Metal version of of New Adam New Eve. Rockin'’!
Clear the stage for the support band and leave them to it.
Dinner. A very nice chicken in a white wine sauce. Great. Our caterers have worked wonders yet again. And profiteroles and cream for afters!!! Wow. There goes my waistline again!
The gig. Dannys looking everywhere for Little Gor, he even asks the audience if they’ve seen the little fellow. bemused look back from the punters. What’s the singer on about? What little bloke, is it an new song, what did he say?
Little Gor is finally spotted by Danny in the middle of the set. He’s watching from Front of House just above Abbiss’s head.
The gig ends, Saturday night is the loneliest night of the week.....
And the load out commences. Slow but steady. Finish my bit, make the customary almost midnight call to my very sleepy girlfriend. Go to find the bus and then the shower. There is a shower make that one shower. Small compact and Bijou. At least it’s hot and powerful for a change.
A mate is doing sound for Hefner at the other gig at the Uni, just down the hill. I get escorted down there by the ever helpful Mia from the venue. John’s had a great gig. Not. The in house monitor desk has blown up so monitors from front of house. MMnnn nice. We swap stories, and reminisce about Shaky tours we’ve done before.
I wander back to the bus. We’re not quite a bus yet, the lampies are still in the single shower.
We leave. Slow and Steady. Brixton beckons, the London gig. We get 100yards down the road. The TV goes off. Mmmnn, no mains. The bus stops. Mmmnn. It’s broke. Ooops. It’s dropped a fan belt.
I go to bed. I wonder if the bus will be fixed. Will we wake up in Brixton, or still by the side of the road near Sheffield? We'll find out in the morning.
Good night. |
