69
If you’d like to start from Chapter 1, you can find it here.
After Prince George, we went on to Grande Prairie, Edmonton, Red Deer, day off, Saskatoon, Brandon, Winnipeg, day off.
This is what it felt like:
Arrive at venue, sleep, load in, eat lunch, wait, soundcheck, wait, eat dinner, get ready, play, shower at the venue (sometimes), blowjobs while Boink plays, load out, drive all night, arrive at venue, sleep, load in, eat lunch, wait, soundcheck, wait, eat dinner, get ready, play, shower at the venue (sometimes), blowjobs while Boink plays, load out, drive all night, arrive at venue, sleep, load in, eat lunch, wait, soundcheck, wait, eat dinner, get ready, play, shower at the venue (sometimes), blowjobs while Boink plays, load out, drive all night, arrive at venue, sleep, load in, eat lunch, wait, soundcheck, wait, eat dinner, get ready, play, shower at the venue (sometimes), blowjobs while Boink plays, load out, drive all night, arrive at venue, sleep, load in, eat lunch, wait, soundcheck, wait, eat dinner, get ready, play, shower at the venue (sometimes), blowjobs while Boink plays, load out, drive all night, arrive at venue, sleep, load in, eat lunch, wait, soundcheck, wait, eat dinner, get ready, play, shower at the venue (sometimes), blowjobs while Boink plays, load out, drive all night, laundry.
It didn’t take long until I’d lost track of what day it was. It didn’t matter. A Sunday show was the same as a Thursday show. It’s easy to understand how the big arena acts that tour the world can lose track of what city they’re in. In my case, add a pinch of extra confusion from being high a lot of the time, and you get a guy who sort of floats through time. It’s freeing.
As a club band, we’d drive to a city and park the bus for six days. We’d hang out with friends, party once or twice a week, go to the corner store, and poo whenever we felt like it. As a one-night stand band, you get to do 0% of that stuff. Every day you arrive somewhere, do the thing, and then go somewhere else. You do that almost every single day for weeks or months. Years if you’re Motörhead.
There’s a misconception that touring bands live a glamorous life full of porn stars, dump trucks full of cocaine, and millions of dollars. We had none of those things. Neither did Boink. You’ve got to be on the big cog of the machine for that kind of stuff.
A band on the small cog like us lived in a van with four other guys who farted and snored and ground their teeth. We mooched weed from people backstage. We had tens of dollars. We had some hygiene issues.
“Can we do laundry soon? Every piece of clothing I own has jizz on it,” said Nigel.
“It looks spectacular when Ian turns the black lights on. You have a map of the Gulf Islands on the back of your orange shirt,” said Itch.
“Every piece?” I asked. “How?”
“Well, not literally every piece. I think I have a clean pair of socks.”
“That’s ironic,” Itch said.
“You shouldn’t be rawdogging. Bag that thing up,” I said.
“It’s okay. I’m impotent.”
“If you go back to the STD clinic again, that doctor is going to torture your pee-hole with that steel rod Q-Tip thingy. Three times in six months is too many times. The chlamydia doctor shouldn’t be asking you to play golf.”
“You’re going to regret your behaviour one day, young man,” said Itch.
“I don’t think I am.”
Dean and Nigel were fully off the wagon as far as being loyal to their girlfriends. It was good PR. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll, bayyyyyybeh. Itch and I behaved. Not that we weren’t tempted once in a while.
I like brainy women. Brainy and hot. Brainy and hot and funny. Brainy, hot, funny, and horny. That’s Stef. Why continue looking for something if you already know where it is? It had taken Itch years to find Robert, so he wasn’t misbehaving either.
Window shopping is fine. Stef and I would do it right in front of each other. Mall food courts were the best.
“He’s hot,” she’d say, nodding in the direction of whatever guy had caught her eye. “Would you do him? I’d do him.”
“I’m not ready yet. I’m still getting over Itch not wanting to fuck me. I’m questioning my homosexuality.”
“I’m so sad for you,” she said sarcastically.
“It’s okay. I don’t need him. My girlfriend is the best girlfriend in history.”
“Aw,” she blushed a little and leaned in for a kiss.
“She’s over there in the line-up at Harvey’s.”
“Asshole.”
“I love your dirty mouth. You hungry?”
“Yep.”
“Harvey’s?”
“Sure.”
I missed her. I missed us. It was only five days, 2200 km, and three shows until Toronto. All of us except Nigel and Dean were looking forward to seeing our better halves. They were disappointed that this whole idea had come up in the first place. They wanted to go to peeler bars and “fuck Eastern strippers.” They were mercenaries.
But first, Thunder Bay.
