On two occasions, we played in a venue that could best be described as a Olive-Garden-type restaurant. If a loud rock cover band playing in an Olive Garden sounds like a ridiculous scenario, that’s because it is. We were well aware of the fact that we would be too loud, but the owner crossed our palms with silver, so we showed up and plugged in.
So, basically for the first three hours of our performance, no one was listening to us (as expected). The night took a decidedly more interesting turn at around 12:30 a.m. A girl walks into the place, alone, essentially just begging for a conversation with anybody. So our lead singer approaches her at the bar during a break and says hello, etc., and—immediately—the whole band gets a weird vibe. Something’s just … off.
Not being well versed in drugs, I turn to the bassist mid-song and mouth the word “Ecstasy?” He kinda shrugs and nods at the same time—basically saying that he thinks so, but like me, really has no idea. The strange dancing continues for some time, but then the girl starts to knock over things accidentally, like a drink glass or mic stand. The owner appears and asks her to leave. She seems to not comprehend such a request. (We’re playing this whole time, so I’m just reading body language and lips, really.)
The owner grows more frustrated, and the girl goes from wacky-happy to angry. Cops are called and the girl is arrested and taken to a police cruiser while she’s highly emotional and yelling. The whole thing was just nuts. The nicest place we will ever play, and it’s our only arrest story. The place did not invite us back—I have no idea why.
Great story!
Hey, at least you now have a great gig story to share. Of all the times my old bands played, I cannot say that I ever encountered an arrest … of course, my sister and the "main" lead singer of our first band did at one point almost kill one another (gotta love those band "family" dynamics–and the jealousy that can occur when there is more than one lead singer).
LOL wow… That’s pretty special. I wonder what the shoulder-touching was about…
I’ve had gigs to this tune. But I can’t talk as I, too, dance like Elaine from Seinfeld…
and somehow I’m a little sad I didn’t get this gig. I’ll trade you one whack job at the olive garden for one 5 hour session of mentally challenged karaoke! (they locked us IN!)