You know you’ve been on the road a long time when you forget to get paid. I did that last night. I played Klondike Mike’s in Palmer Alaska and then ventured off to sleep sans dinero.
The only reason I remembered is cuz tonight when got paid for my show at Chilkoot Charlie’s in Anchorage I was sitting there lookin at the cash pass from Bart’s (the nice manager) hands to my hands. Kinda like a coke or card dealer. At that moment I thought to myself “hey dude, you forgot to get paid. Dummy. Now what?”
Then Bart says “text Rob and he’ll get you the cashish. I have his number. Everybody knows everyone’s number in this 49th State.”
So now I’m sitting in my rental car outside my hotel in the pissing rain. It’s rained all day today. Maybe yesterday was an aberration and it’s not always sunny in Alaska.
It’s almost 10:30 pm and it’s light out and there are zombie drunks staggering down the street like it’s Friday night. Oh wait, it IS Friday night. But it’s still light out. This place is one big bowl of confusion soup and I’m drinking it through a leaky paper straw.
My show was fun. That’s right. It was fun. I played that one g chord and people took off their underwear and threw it at me on stage. Skid marked underwear tossed at me in slow motion. Underwear moving slow like an eephus pitch from the arm of Rip Sewell.
Hey the rain just died down and I’m waiting on a text from the promoter. Maybe he’ll PayPal me the cash. I ain’t driving back to Palmer.
Dog bless you all.
A dispatch from the road.