Last weekend, drvorhees and I had a gig at the Lucky Dog Music Hall in Worcester. It was a fun night and successful gig by most accounts. On the outside, the place looks quite a bit like PAs Lounge, but the interior reminded me of another lounge: Somerville’s beloved, recently defunct Abbey – except larger overall and with an absolutely massive stage. The club’s big claim to fame is that the Rolling Stones played a surprise gig there in 1981.
At the Dog, the men’s bathroom is an experience in and of itself. The entire place is wallpapered with pulpy – and fairly graphic – vintage porn. Though this gave the room its own strange style, it wasn’t working for me. I get weirded out by images of naked people who are now either dead or elderly. I should also mention the urinal, which, rather than containing the standard deodorizing urinal cake, was loaded with corn. And that right there could very well be the grossest sentence I’ve ever typed. While putting on my “band uniform” before the show, I asked an older guy who had come in to use said urinal how he thought all that corn got in there (typical small talk). He replied, calmly “I don’t know, buddy, but when you get to my age, peeing is friggin’ impossible.” I had no reason to doubt him.
We stopped at a service station on the way home, where, due to starvation and lack of options, I broke my 7-year McDonald’s embargo, ordering a chicken sandwich and fries. This, I begrudgingly report, came exactly one week after lifting a 5-year ban on Burger King. Both experiences served as a good reminder that I no longer enjoy the taste of poison.
This post seems to have devolved into a bunch of random musings on haircuts, porn, fast food, and bodily fluids – i.e. everything that happened last weekend in Worcester besides the actual gig. Blogging, I’m starting to learn, can lead you down some dark and unexpected paths.