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Friday, April 20, 2007

The show must go on...

I don't know if I mentioned it here, but my friend Eric had a show in Nashville last night, and I've been so excited about it since he told me he was coming. We were going to go to his show last night, and then hit the town with him and the guys. I haven't seen Eric since he opened for Jason Aldean last March, and I couldn't wait.

I was running late from work, as the server decided to freeze up as I was e-mailing a report that has to be finished before I leave Thursday. I rushed home and got ready in five minutes. Then we battled the West End traffic and arrived at 12th and Porter with minutes to spare, thanks to the first highlight of my evening: complimentary valet. ("But you have to tip us." OK, dude that makes it so not complimentary anymore.)

I have been to several shows at 12th and Porter to see various friends since arriving in the Music City. So, I grab a drink, head over to where the stage is, and we wait. There's no one there. All we can hear is that Keith Urban CD with the-drinking-and-crying-song playing over and over. No sign of Eric.

I figured they were running late or the schedule got changed or something. Hell, I even thought that maybe Eric and the guys had car trouble and were stranded in Kentucky. I had no idea what was going on. Kay and I were very confused.

This other band came on and sang three or four songs. Maybe they were an opening act? We still waited patiently.

Finally this girl comes and sits next to us. She tells us her friend said he was playing there tonight, but he wasn't with this band and maybe she mixed up the dates, was at the wrong place, all the things we wondered. She decides that she's going to ask at the door.

That's when they break the news to us. 12th and Porter has a second stage, in a very nondescript, closed-off section behind the door. Oops. I think she caught her friend's last song, but Eric, Chico and the boys were long gone.

Who the fuck has a mystery stage that no one knows about? Because I'm telling you, I've gone there a lot. Not like Crossroads a lot, but more than most places in town, and I never knew about this secret second stage.

I was really sad and depressed. I felt like I let Eric down because I told him I would be there. I felt like I let Kay down because she'd been listening to his CD all week and who knows when she'll get to see him live. And probably the most upsetting part for me was that I missed my friend, whom I have not seen in over a year. We tried to find him downtown, but you know what the end of the week on Lower Broad can look like.

Finally, we gave up and we took in a few minutes of Jewels' show. I love her, but sometimes I think that the tourists get more than they bargain for. She's craaaazzzzy.

Then onward to Legends Corner, where Maurice whipped me up a delicious pizza. Apparently he is trying to put a pre-emptive strike on me being drunk and insane. He kept doing this crazy routine where he made these faces and gestures and screamed when he saw me. I asked Kay what he was doing, and she said it was an impersonation of me from last week. It's amazing he didn't bar the doors when he saw me coming. Kassie and Bobby seem to think it's because I have nice bar tabs.

But tab was not a word in my vocabularly last night, as I met a liquor distributor, and as long as I drank his shit, he paid for it. Probably mostly because he wanted to get in my pants.

He says he's going to meet us there again tonight. Pass me the Southern Comfort.

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