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| Worst Gigs |
| Ve Haff Vays of making you Play!
by Kyra Bernice |
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This was 7 years ago now but I think
it was, "The Three Oaks??" Gloucester somewhere?? Should have been called
'The Three Songs' because that's exactly how long it took before things
went kind of pear-shaped. |
| Backstage: I had a
feeling as soon as I met the Landlord (aka:Hitler) that the gig was doomed.
It was one of my solo gigs, so my partner and I walked in at around
7:45pm and stood at the bar waiting 20mins for the Landlord to appear to
find out where to set up as there was currently nowhere TO set up. Nobody
would give us a clue where to go then all of a sudden, this scrawny little
man with a huge black moustache came up to us and with no introduction,
kindly told us we were late, taking the piss and should have been set up by
8pm (!) then pointed a finger towards a heavily built up area of punters and
tables and said, 'there'. I told him nicely that he'd have to inform the
customers we'd be setting up there and usually, that amount of tables should
be moved already as we don't know where to put them. He huffed in my face
and walked off! My partner had already asked me if he could punch him at
this point. |
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Nerves: So it was a case of 'to pay
my rent or not to pay?'. I should have followed my instincts, however,
after hovering by the door for several minutes wondering if we should
walk, I then had a terrible realisation..."SHIT, I've invited friends to
this dump!!" So through gritted teeth we decided to take the money and
run.
After moving everyone and pushing some tables out the
way (being verbally abused by punters in the process) we set up on a
raised area in front of the door we brought the gear in through which was
handy for a nifty escape I guess.
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| Show Start:
15mins before I was due to start, my friends called me and said they'd been
driving round for an hour trying to find the place so we gladly gave them
more directions as we gathered a bit of back up was going to be necessary.
While I was giving directions Hitler came up and said, 'are you starting or
what? You're already late'. I told him I was on the phone and why, and
that I thought it was a 9pm start. I quote, 'the entertainment starts when I
tell them to in MY pub'. I was gob smacked but was already getting
threatening looks from his huge bodyguards hovering over by the bar. I
regretted my decision immediately but started the show at 1 minute to 9. |
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Interval: 3 songs in and my three friends walked in, pleased that
they finally made it. They disappeared among 'the heavies' at the bar to get
a drink. I began the fourth song addressing it to the few people that were
actually listening and was totally oblivious to what was happening at the
bar. After the 5th song I began wondering what was taking my friends so long
to get a drink when suddenly I hear a knocking on the glass window of
the door behind me. I looked around and there were my friends waving at me
mouthing the word, 'P***K' and pointing in the direction of the bar. I
couldn't understand what was going on, then it dawned on me that they'd been
thrown OUT by Hitler himself! |
| Adrenalin:
I finished the set and went to the bar to speak to the Landlord. He came
over and shouted 'what?' in my face (still with the protection of his
heavies, you realise) I asked why he threw my friends out as it had taken
them so long to find the place and just wanted to give me some support. The
only thing he could come up with was that they looked under age. My friend
Sue is a bit short but all 3 of them had ID and had been supporting me for 5
years already. None of them were under 22 and two of them looked 5 years
older than ME! He then said, 'we don't like strangers here - I'll decide who
comes into my pub'. This was crunch point. He then walked off and my partner
began discreetly packing up as soon as I gave the signal (the quick
cut-throat sign we're all too familiar with). |
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The
Finale: I stood at the bar with my head held high and shouted, 'I
want to speak to you NOW!' I felt 15 blokes breathing down my neck as they
closed in on me. Hitler came over and I told him I wouldn't continue under
these circumstances. Spoke on my friends behalf and asked to be paid for the
45min set so that I could pack up and leave (yeah, I know...long shot eh?)
He told me to 'F**k Off' and walked away. The heavies told me to get out
before it got ugly. I asked them if they were threatening me and they said
yes. I said I only wanted to be paid for my set but then one ugly
mutt grabbed my arm and said, 'get the F**k out or I'll rip your head off'.
I thought that was quite a nice way to put it so said I wasn't leaving until
that p***k paid me. The girl next to me kindly told me that was her Father I
was speaking about - I was about to be eaten alive several punters and
luckily, most of my gear was out the door, (my partner knows I can handle
myself but he was ready for the rescue just in case) so I slowly walked out. |
| Encore:
Standing outside with my friends and being told the way he spoke to them
just got me to boiling point. I saw him approaching to shut the exit door
and as he got closer to us he shouted, 'get off my property!' and stuck his
finger up. He came outside where I asked him once more my money. Obviously,
he refused at which point my little friend called him several names and then
flicked her roll up at his face which stuck to his moustache and started
sizzling! He ran inside, clamped the door shut and began getting
his troupes rounded up. I now turned into the incredible hulk and ripped
myself out of my partners arms (he knew what was coming and saying, 'Kyra,
don't do it!') I charged at the door and did a flying karate kick at it, and
the door that once opened outwards, now opened inwards...it shattered!
Through the empty door I watched every stool in the place rise to the
ceiling and heard what sounded like a stampede heading my way. So my next
words were...'go go go go..move out people!' We were still hanging out of
our cars whilst driving off and at the same time 20 blokes were throwing
stools at us & trying to get our doors open. Some even stood in front of our
cars (briefly) a few toe crunches perhaps but in a situation like that, you
just kinda floor it and put the wipers on! |
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Aftermath: I called the Police as soon
as I got home and told them that my friends and I had been threatened,
verbally & physically abused and that there were actually a couple of
customers that would testify to this (which was true - so it wasn't all
bad!!) Nothing was followed up. I think Hitler got in a spot of bother and
obviously I never went back to see if the tyrant was still running the
place. Quite frankly, I hope he's dead!
I'm not bothered I didn't get my money to be honest. I
would have PAID £150 to witness the sight, sound 'and' smell of that
greasy moustache burning away that night.
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I'm pleased to say that in the 16
years I've been performing, this is the only bad gig I've ever had...as
yet!
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