GIG FROM HELL: IMPALER
________________________________________________________________________

Back in 2001 Impaler was offered a couple of shows out East. Green Bay, Chicago, Bowling Green. So I talked to a booking agent at a local agency here in St. Paul...we'll call him Dip Shit! (to protect the guilty.)

Dip had assured me that he had the capabilities to book some other shows around the area. As weeks went by I called to check on Mr. Shit's progress. "Fine, really good!" I was told. As it came to pass two and a half weeks before we were scheduled to head out on our little rockin' adventure Dip informs me that he "kind of spaced things out" and that he didn't have any connecting dates for us. "Thanks, Dip Shit!" I believe is what I said at the time.  So I scrambled and nailed down some last minute additions. One of these being The Old Miami in Detroit, Michigan. Home and hearth to some of my biggest influences, like the Stooges and the MC5. Very excited to have scored the Motor City on such short notice, we rolled into town.

 "WHAT is THIS?", "We should LEAVE!" and "Is Bill fucking INSANE!?" Do you think I'd be in this business for 20 plus years if I wasn't a little kookie??

As I entered the place with my trusty sidekick (stungun guitarist Bradley J) we surveyed a docile young man mopping the floor who informed us he was John, the bartender at the establishment and he was aware of our show but we could not load in until 7 o'clock. He gave us directions to a mall that had movies and shopping to while away the hours until load in. The stage was descent and the sound equipment was very good as well. So, minds eased, we drove off to spend money in the nearby suburb. While we were eating pizza and looking over the local music rags at the mall a strange transformation was taking place back at the Old Miami. Our boy John the bartender had one of these Jeckyl and Hyde drinking personalities. First, as we pushed open the door to the bar an elderly gent was swaying and bobbing on his stool in a huge puddle of piss and Johnny Boy was loud and proud! Yelling out slurred obscenities at no one in particular. Very different than the quiet, meek guy mopping the floor earlier in the day. As we began to pull equipment into the bar Drunk John was really lit up and began chasing one of the afternoon clientele around the pool table brandishing a pool cue. WHUSSSHHH! it went, wiping around the back of this guy's head like that Singapore whipping cane The Sandman carries around in the ECW matches.

Well, we kept setting up 'cause damned if Impaler has ever canceled a gig and surely we would not sneak out of The Motor City with the ghosts of Brother Rob Tyner and "Sonic" Fred Smith hovering so close!

Back to Thirsty John and he now has produced a shotgun from under the bar and is waving around a fucking SHOTGUN! Yelling "This is MY bar Mother Fuckers!!" or "Let's fucking PARTY" or some such nonsense. Someone in their right minds called in a woman who was a bartender there as well. She came in, put John in a cab and tried to get things back to "normal" whatever the fuck that is at The Old Miami.

By this time Seventh Calling was so mortified that they refused to play the show. The sober replacement bartender informed us "Music starts at 9:30 sharp!" So Impaler took the stage at 9:30 sharp and played a FULL set! As we were winding up cables to get the fuck out of Dodge a few trippers came around in corpse paint and Manowar t-shirts wondering when Impaler was going to start? We signed some shit, collected our $50.00 and headed on down the ol' highway.

So, don't book any last minute shows at The Old Miami. And while I'm thinking of it, thanks again, Dip Shit!

 -Bill Lindsey

 http://www.impalershockrock.com

 _________________________________________________________________________

                    
HOME