Page 41 of Behind the Lights

“Joey,” Stoli said, sidling up beside me, “you’ll be fine. You have a killer voice. Now stop fucking around with your lip rings before you rip them out.”

“How do you always know what I’m thinking?” Sometimes it felt like he was inside my head.

For the first time since I’ve known Stoli, his intent stare filled my stomach with unease. “No one knows you better than me.” His look was almost sad, but quickly changed before he slapped my thigh and turned away to pick up the paper beside him. “Come on, let’s go over the song list.”

Four and a half hours later, we’d found ourselves pulling up outside the first stop on the tour. It looked like a mass exodus was taking place as everyone jumped out of their vehicles all at once. After stretching our tired limbs, we made our way to the front of the line where the buses and bands had started to gather.

They took us inside for a tour of the venue, showing us where to enter and exit from before and after performances. As per the email, we’d be the first act on stage tomorrow at noon, but with many of the bands sleeping in their vehicles we figured it’d be total mayhem in the parking lot tonight. Management must have assumed it would be too as they’d placed a dozen port-a-johns out there for us to use.

The cool part was that they had tables set up for us to sell our CD’s at. Each band would have the table for a half hour to do so which was kind of exciting for us. This was a great way to get our fan base built.

Stoli nudged me. “Hey, if Lucas isn’t going to finish our website let me know. Seems we need to expand our social media presence.”

“Okay, let me text him.” I pulled out my phone and shot him a quick text. “Let’s go help get our stuff unloaded and then find some food.”

An hour later, our measly gear and instruments were unloaded and set up, so we were ready to roll first thing in the morning. We walked across the street to a burger joint and got some grub. While we were inside, the sun had set and as we exited the restaurant we could already hear the other bands getting wound up where we were camped for the night.

Passing back through the crowd, we noticed everyone had coolers out and beers in hand. Several bottles of Jack Daniels and some other shit was being passed around. There were easily fifty people out here and we weren’t sure what to expect as the night wore on. Nearing our van, the guys beside us were barbecuing next to their truck. That thought hadn’t even crossed our minds and I wished it had.

“Dude.” I nudged Stoli, nodding toward their portable unit.

“It’s on the mental shopping list my friend,” he assured me.

As the night wore on, the crowd grew rowdier and the drinking quickly turned to other things as the smell of pot filled the air. Being new to this kind of setup, we decided when we needed bathroom breaks that it would be best to go in pairs. And we were glad we did that with the things we saw. When I opened the door to one of the johns, there was a guy passed out in there with a band strapped around his arm and a needle was still sticking out of it. He groaned, so I knew he wasn’t dead, but it still freaked me the fuck out. I let go of the door and the spring on it was so tight it slammed shut.

“What the hell?” Stoli jumped.

“Um there’s a dude in there with a needle sticking out of his arm.” I felt so naïve, but at the same time I was pretty sure Stoli had never seen that kind of shit before either.

“Oh fuck, well don’t open that one,” he pointed to the one next to it. “Some guy is getting his junk sucked.”

“I’m thinking the bushes are looking like the best option for taking a piss in.” I turned, heading back in the direction our van was.

“Agreed. This is going to be one hell of a tour,” he said as we walked back toward the van and whipped it out in the bushes behind where we’d parked.

“You guys just gonna drop trow right here?” Diamond said as he rounded the corner, scaring the shit out of me.

“Yeah, we don’t recommend going anywhere near the johns,” Stoli informed them both.

“It’s starting to get a little rowdy and it’s gonna be fucked to try and get any sleep tonight,” Mickey added before joining in the watering of the bushes.

“Maybe we better call it a night and shut ourselves inside the van before the cops show up,” Stoli suggested as he began rearranging the back of the van so we could unroll our sleeping bags.

“Good call,” Diamond said as the four of us got to setting up our stuff. But as we’d assumed, it was loud as hell until the cops showed up and shut it down around one a.m. I guess the neighbors had had enough and called them out.

By the time we finally fell asleep, we crashed so hard that we slept through the phone alarms and were awoken by someone from the venue pounding on our van yelling, “Social Sinners, wake the fuck up. Time for your sound check.”Bang, bang, bang.

“Fuck,” Stoli screamed, throwing the van door open. “Sorry man, we’ll be right in.”

We grabbed our shit, shoving down pop tarts chased by bottled water and then used the same water to brush our teeth with before locking up the van and running in through the side entrance we were told to use.

While this venue wasn’t big based upon the concerts we’d attended over the years, it was huge compared to the dives we’d been playing in. We were awestruck, straining our necks to catalog every inch of the place in our memories. Today we would be playing to the largest crowd we had to date, and with the upcoming places on the schedule, it was only increasing with each stop on the tour. My heart was racing, and the gates hadn’t even opened yet.

By the time we made it to the stage, the roadies were already busy putting the final touches on our equipment. Our speakers and amps were shit in comparison to some of the other bands, but it was all we had, and I knew Stoli already had upgrades in mind once we had more money stashed away.

After making some final adjustments to our instruments and hanging up the sheet banners Mickey made, we headed backstage to grab some water. We were too nervous to eat anything else and before we knew it, the stage manager was telling us the gates were open and reminded us where to go to sell our merch when we were done playing.

Stoli wiped his hands on his jeans. “Fuck, are you guys as nervous as I am?” he asked, scanning our faces.

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