Poor Boy

I'm in a semi-sulk.

We played a gig on Thursday night at the 'Poor Boys Cafe'. Mick organised it, and seeing as how I was too chicken (read shy/perpetually embarrassed/stupid) to go in with him, I didn't get to see the venue before we arrived to play.

Mick did say it was small; but I equated small with small, not with Lilliput. Also, rather than getting a straight fee, we were being paid 20% of the bar. Woo Hoo! I thought, rubbing my hands in a Shylockian fashion, dancing up the street, and wondering where to salt away the pounds of flesh.

Alas alack, although it was packed, the Twenty or so people were not alcoholics. The total takings were £180, ergo our cut was £36, or £18 each.

£18 for three hours, and the angst and other shite that performers suffer. Plus petrol. The Bowling Gnomes we are not ... nor The Rolling Stones either.

We have been 're-booked' for 5th May, and are henceforth considering Poor Boys as a paid rehearsal. It's an apt name.

All that aside, musically it was a great gig, and I had a whale of a time!