We got situated in the hotel and, told there would be a 20 minute wait for a cab, I went into the bar and had a beer. Well, ordered a beer, since the cab came in about 5 minutes. The Sister was dressed up all fashionably and had two original New York Dolls slices of vinyl that she hoped to get signed. I had to leave my camera at home as the venue was a no photo type of deal. We headed over to the venue. Got there and although the tickets said the show began at 8:30 there was a sign on the door that said it would open at 9. There was also a skinny kid pounding frantically on the door and hollering at the employees inside. He hammered and hammered until the employees came over to reassure us that the show would be at 8:30 (This turned out to be a lie of sorts.. the doors opened at 8:30, but the show began spot on at 9:30)
The kid’s name was Alex, skinny with a big nose and bigger enthusiasm. Alex also had an accent that veered from Liverpool to Jersey (sometimes by way of a planet outside our solar system) and often in the space of one word. He said he knew a good place to go to get a drink and took us around the corner to Shanghai something or other. We had a drink and he told us amusing story after amusing story, none of which would have been even slightly believable to a massively retarded cosmetology student. He was an actor who had done landscaping for over 15 years. Since he was only 23, this meant he must have done the bulk of his acting before he was 8 years old and entered the industry. He knew where to get drugs, didn’t do them, and drank Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer (this, at least, was true). He was so entertaining that, when he went off to purchase a drink I started to ask The Sister if we should drop our spare ticket (I had purchased 3 because they were cheap) on this kid and I wasn’t halfway through beginning the question when she just nodded yes. As he was about to go off and get his ticket, we told him the good news.
He squealed like he had just won the Mrs. America contest except that this year it included a surprise violation by dilde. After another drink we headed off to the venue and, just as it started to rain, entered. Our IDs were checked (they are relentless about this in Portland and the fact I’m pushing advanced old age had no effect on this) and we were in a nice small venue with two bars and some theater seating around the edges. Being early, we grabbed a handful of them and some beers.
The start of the show was “announced” when the PA blared out “Devil With a Blue Dress” and three women in nice skimpy outfits began to dance. The first band was the winner of some local radio contest and thus no better or no worse than any other local band that might win a contest no one cares about. They could have been the Flaming Oh’s from Minneapolis or Hoi Polloi from Berkeley. They were somewhat hampered by the fact their front man couldn’t sing. I think they were called “The Charms” although they had none. The crowd was filtering in and contained all the ‘types’ you’d expect – a hipster with spit curls on his sideburns; the guy who orders two drinks at the bar and drops the first empty cup on the bar even before he gets his change; the fat guy in the pink shirt with the pink stripe in his beard; Tattoed freaks; ugly young men and women who choose ugly fashion to accentuate their failings; even a guy in a tie-dyed t-shirt who couldn’t have looked more out of place if he’d been wearing a nun’s wimple – in fact that might have fit in better.
So I just drank more…
Next…. What the makeup can’t hide can’t be made up with a kiss…
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