We weren't blessed with enough foresight to reserve our U-Haul, so there was a brief moment where we thought we weren't going to make our first show. But, we managed to find one and got on the road with Aaron and Kenny cramped in the back of Darin's truck with each other's feet in each other's asses.
The drive was uneventfull, with all of us to pumped to sleep. Singalongs ensued.
We played a hookah bar called Nargile for a huge crowd of Coltrane Motion after being promised, "Like, 150 people, dude." Later, we discovered the local band we were playing with was a jam band, so it was no wonder the 50 or so people who were there chose to ignore us.
After an hour or so of hanging out and smoking a lemon hookah, Matt (from Coltrane) and Darin were invited by a hot waitress, named Shawnee, to come downstairs to a "secret open bar" and followed her. Before we knew it, everyone but Bond and I were downstairs partaking in the free booze.
Underage drunkeness ensued. And, you know, some (semi) legal kind too.
Darin found us in the middle of a story and said, "We were just asked to leave. The guy said he couldn't believe we were stealing his liquor, and we were the worst band that had ever played here." We were beng removed from the venue!
Darin tried to explain, but the owner wasn't having any of it. Shawnee completely denied all knowledge of the "alledged event."
Upon getting back to the hotel, we laughed about the whole thing until Matt interupted us. "I have something to show you guys," he said, removing a folded sheet of napkin from his pocket. It was Shawnee's phone number:
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