Last night we played the Uptown. Our drummer extraordinaire Barry is a nacho aficionado and it's sorta rubbing off on me, I have to say. I've always liked nachos as much as anyone else, but Barry has taken my nacho awareness to a whole new level. I crave them now whereas before it was more of an out of sight out of mind thing. Pre-Barry, if a friend had some on hand I'd say sure, I'll have me a nacho or two, have some, end of story. But now I can't imagine life without them.
Barry had a plate of Uptown nachos before him when I arrived at the club and loaded my gear in. The nacho plate was immense and magnificent looking; it was so sexy I had to go and order some for myself. My plate arrived just minutes later was a good 8 or 9 pounds at least - a very well assembled plate of nacho-ey goodness if I do say so myself. About 5 1/2 pounds into it, I could do no more and gave in.
And then the full stomach and hot pepper hallucinations set in. When I looked at any source of light, I started to see rainbows. My tummy started to feel all floaty and tingly. They were some hella spicy nachos indeed, and it is an unwritten law that the only cure for salty, spicy nachos when you're at a bar is beer. So I ordered me a Summit Winter Ale and sucked it down in seconds flat to ease the pain. Still thirsty and buzzing from the nachos, I ordered another beer. And another.
This was all fine and dandy, however I remembered I had a set to play in a little under an hour. And with the kind of music we do, it's sorta important to be on the ball, as these are laser-precise arrangements that require quite a bit of concentration. Playing Iced Ink music when high on beer drinks is like trying to build a house of cards in a moving car.
Alas, there was only one thing I could do at this point. Mouth still tingling from nachos and feeling comfortably dumb, I of course went and got another Summit Winter Ale. What a tool.
By the time we hit the stage, I have to admit, I had my beer goggles on and I had a good 1-2 second delay cookin’. Not good. We played a pretty good set, I reckon, and managed to clean out the room which was full of college students there to see the band before us faster than you can say American Eagle Outfitters. I was pretty stoopided up from the nachos and beer combo, but we plowed through our muthafuckin' set anyhow like a goose freight train and I lived through it. The only casualties suffered were a string cut on my index finger and split fingernail.
Oh, and there's the CD of the show that Tim the soundman recorded for us that I'm listening to right now. Next time we play out at a nacho and beer offering venue, if you see me wearing headphones, don't mind me. I'm just taking preventative measures to remind myself why not to punish my body so soon prior to playing a set. I'll stick with my fault tolerant classic Sour Skittles and
