The band was especially loud tonight. I said the same to the club owner, who cocked her head and said, "What!?" After using my megaphone voice I got through, but her response was, "They sound fine to me." By the mid-point break, they had successfully cleared the tables in front of the bandstand and had everyone packed in the back. At one point, I stepped outside to give me ears a break and was mumbling something to the effect of “….*&^#!! efing head-banging jazz…” when a yellow school bus with a neighboring bar’s sign taped in the window pulled up to the stop sign. Out tumble two well-lubricated guys who made their way toward me and the door. “Gentlemen, there’s a FIVE DOLLAR cover.” I put emphasis on the $5 like I was saying five thousand dollars, hoping….just hoping…. “Not a problem,” they both said and each pulled out grimy fives from their germ-infested money stashes. They entered and I followed while the band was launching into Freddie Hubbard’s Super Blue. I noticed on the back bar that a young couple with their cute, no more than a year old daughter, was sitting with the little cutie perched on the bar with her arms up in the air giggling with joy. I felt like the old curmudgeon since I had cautioned them when entering that the music might be too loud for their little bird. Note to self: “Stop being an old crow!”
No comments:
Post a Comment