I hate to admit that I’m kinda getting used to this whole no dog thing. He has officially been pugnapped and I am starting to be sorta ok with it. I don’t have to go home immediately after work and walk him and I don’t have to walk him at 2 am when I get home from the bar on Friday night. This timeshare thing I’ve arranged really fits nicely into my life. Does this make me the most horrible dog owner ever or is it a win win? I feel guilty for not dying to have him around everyday, since Maximus really is the love of my life. I feel like the husband that is having a midlife crisis and just needs a European vacation with the guys. He gets to be a practice dog every other weekend (albeit a very long weekend) for a couple with 2 little kids, and mommy gets a break from the responsibility. The thunderstorms last night made me think about how I definitely would prefer to die WITH Maximus should there be a tornado.
This is a random aside, but I want J-Si to stop wearing the cologne he has on. Not because I don’t like the smell, but because scent is the closest thing to memory and to me it’s the smell of heartbreak. You know the emotions that get conjured up when you smell something? Fresh cut grass in the summer reminds me of soccer practices. Chance by Chanel reminds me of my best girlfriend Becca. Freshly tarred pavement makes me think of my summer walks to the local pool. I loved that smell of pavement…kinda weird? Anyways, perfumes and colognes really have an effect on me. I can smell people sometimes. When I’m in a bar and smell a certain cologne it’s like I know the person is there because I register that smell. I don’t know what the name of the cologne is, I know what the bottle looks like. Anyways, J-Si claims he’s been wearing it for 12 years. I don’t know how that’s possible considering I have only smelled it on him a handful of times and I always tell him, “grrr, stop wearing the scent of heartbreak.” He thinks it doesn’t matter because he has worn it forever. Do guys not have this same sense of smell? I already went through a period of time where breathing alone was difficult because I was so sad. Now I have to breathe in the scent of heartache. I know it’s a bottle of a guy’s torso, but since I don’t know the name I’m going to refer to it as, eau de “heart-ripped out, stomped on, don’t want to get out of bed, why?, leave me alone forever. J-Si is a betting man and a prideful one. This works in my favor. How can I bribe him to stop wearing it?
Thursday night was the show at Mckinney Avenue Tavern. Ticket sales were a little bit light for this one for a couple reasons. First of all Coolio has played my bar before. It was about a year ago and it was for Kellie’s birthday. Second of all, it was on a Thursday night. We had a crowd but there was definitely room for more warm thirsty bodies. But we made the best of it. Coolio put on a great show and signed every autograph and took a pic with everyone that asked. The show was over at 12am and then it was time to get him to the hotel so we could catch our flight in the morning.
The small dilemma that I was faced with at the airport was this. I bought Coolio and his crew “Coach” tickets. I bought my mom and myself Business class tickets. It was for her birthday so I wanted to treat her nice. I didn’t really know how to handle this small problem. So, I just made sure that when it was time to board, Coolio and his crew were several people in front of us. I don’t think he ever knew…problem solved.
Anyway, the introduction was pleasant. My mom and I were sitting in this airport restaurant when Coolio arrived. They came over and sat down. “Mom, this is Coolio. Coolio, this is Mrs. Mack.” They shook hands and we talked. The funny thing was at first, when Coolio and his boys were talking, they originally were being very cautious to NOT let and F-Bombs, MF-Bombs, N-words slip out. But as the weekend progressed, they couldn’t help themselves. They weren’t being disrespectful. They were just talking the way that they talk. I get that. Overall, they were very respectful and when we were all together as a group in the van, or just walking around, they were very cool.
Friday night was pretty calm. We did a sound check and made sure that all of the equipment was working properly. Then we went to dinner and everything was great. Coolio and the guys found some girls and they pretty much did their thing. I hung out with Mom and we made it a somewhat early night.
Saturday was the day of the show. The first thing that needed to be done was we had to build a wall. My bar there is very open where people can see from the street. So, since we were charging a cover charge, we needed some way to restrict the visibility. So, the bartenders, the Manager and myself started building a wall. 4 hours later, the wall was built. Coolio showed up around 5pm to hang out a bit and I got to witness some of his “Art” skills. 2 cans of spray-paint later, he had really made our wall look like some of the walls in Compton. It actually looked pretty good.
Around 8p or so, it was time for people to (hopefully) start showing up. I had told people 8 to get them there early. I mean the whole idea is to sell a few drinks. By 9, the bar had maybe 7 people in it and I was thinking that this was maybe the worst idea I had ever had. Where were the people? I had sold 40 tickets and I had given away around 50. Signs were up, flyers were up. Then, a local rolled into the bar and said, your boy is down the street and he is feeling NO Pain. He was talking about Coolio. OH, GOD… whats up?
I walked down to the bar and Coolio and the crew were nowhere to be seen. I was officially worried. I had No Crowd at the bar and I had no idea where my artist was. 30 minutes later, I found them hanging out in another room with some German chicks. Everything was Cool. I told him we would move the show to midnight since the crowd was (hopefully) arriving late. Back to the bar. Now it’s around 11p. I have a crowd. Some of them are getting excited because the show is about to start. Others are pissed because the show hasn’t started yet. But, I had to give people a chance to get there. Then, it was time. The Expedition pulled to the front. Coolio was inside. I walked him in. He got on stage and the party had begun. I looked at my manager Nate. We high fived each other. We had done it. Wow, success…3 minutes later, THE FREAKING POWER WENT OFF! OMG, really? I had a house full of customers, Coolio is in the middle of his second song and we had NO Electricity! I’m freaking out. Its not like I can call the 24hour electrician at midnight on Saturday night in Freaking Playa del Carmen. My sound guy, “Nacho,” had clearly loaded too much stuff and we blew a fuse. I don’t even know where the freaking breaker box is. Nacho is running around. I did the only thing I knew to do…
Tequila Shot…then I saw Nacho again. 15 minutes had passed but it felt like a lifetime. Nacho walked up to me and said… I think I got it. He had an extension cord in one hand and duct tape in the other. I could tell he was a little bit of as panic as well. 2-3 more minutes passed and we had sound. We still had no stage lights, but we had sound. I changed my pants and the show went on.
Everyone was drinking, partying, having a great time. Then I see the Policia outside. NOW WHAT??? My manager came in and just said: “These Mo#@#@ F#@#@@ers…
They wanted to shut the party down. Why??? Basically because they saw us “making money.” What o you do when that happens in Mexico? You ask: how much?
Answer: $10,000 pesos. About $800usd… Really??? YUP! We paid it and the party went on.
The party ended around 1am.