This One Takes The Biscuit

This is a phrase my co-worker JD likes to use a lot. In case you're unfamiliar, continue reading.

Between two years of YOA, a year playing here, and all the other things that seem to come up, I've had some pretty ridiculous gig experiences. But this one really takes the biscuit.

We arrived at some complex that reminded me of a high school football game around 6 pm yesterday evening. We were supposed to do a "sound check" and then wait around about 3 hours before playing the state anthem of this place.

After having a full free day at an all-inclusive hotel, no one was exactly in a state to play any sort of note on their instrument, but we all knew that ASN (director) wouldn't really notice the difference anyway. We ran through three of the silliest pieces every actually bothered to be orchestrated, and then settled in for our wait.

That was going to be interminable enough, but what actually ended up happening was much worse. At about 9:00 it started to drizzle, 9:15 it was definitely raining, and at 9:30 the winds had picked up and it was really starting to pour. It seemed that at one exact moment all the musicians, who were killing time in various clumps spread out around the complex, realized they did not feel comfortable leaving their instruments on a teetery-temporary-stage under a nearby tarp. We all simultaneously rushed the stage to snag our instruments and get back to somewhat substantial shelter and found ourselves in a bit of a traffic jam.

As we fought through microphone cords, percussion equipment, and heavy rain being blown from all directions, it became apparent that the tarp above was completely full of water, and about to break from the weight.

Chaos ensued. That's sort of a cliche, but it's the only thing I can think to write that really describes the experience.

People started yelling "Move to that side, this thing is going to break." As if on cue, at that moment, the wind hit the other tarp just right and it came unhooked, blowing up with a big woosh and starting whipping around. That really helped the chaos ensuing, what with the sound effects and all. Over made-up singers tried to rush down stairs in their too-high-heels, bassists frantically packed up their instruments, and everyone wondered where the tubist was, why he hadn't bothered to put his instrument in its case, if he was coming back any time soon, and whose responsibility it was in the meantime to get his instrument out of the almost-hurricane.

We finally got to shelter, more or less, and heard through the grape vine that we wouldn't actually be performing after all. Lovely.

I forgot to mention that during all this locura the mayor of the city was giving his annual address, quite a formal affair. Amps were buzzing and audiences were getting soaked, but he didn't skip a beat, just continued in the monotonous, and just every once in awhile animated, tone that seems to be the norm for these things.

After more running through the rain and waiting in the rain, the buses finally arrived to take us back to our all-inclusive, incredibly nice resort on the Caribbean. A big buffet, a bottle of red wine, a good chat with some great old and new friends, and some strolling on the coast quickly made get over the bad mood the whole thing had put me in, but oh man.

Oh, and I almost forgot. The icing on the cake came on the bus ride home. The contractor for the gig had stayed behind to continue his vacation once he got us on our buses. About an hour into the bus ride, the bus driver informed us that he had been instructed to take the "Libre" route, which stops in every pueblo and takes about 7 hours, as opposed to the "Cuota" route, which is a free way that takes about 5 hours. The contractor hadn't given the three buses the toll money. After working with this guy the past month, I'm almost certain that was an intentional move to make out with 5o extra bucks. When the bus driver explained the predicament, and offered us the option of each chipping in a bit to take the Cuota and get back home 2 hours earlier, my friend RG put it best: "Just one question. Are you kidding???"

I'm happy to say the Patrimnio is over, and I've survived. And it seems that maybe the best things can come out of the worst things after all...more on that later, perhaps.