|
|
Nash, Alex and I arrive at the Corktown with lots of time to set up and relax. The weather is unusually warm for the beginning of March, and I enjoy exploring the local park and the aroma of thawing winter dumps. I could write a book on the importance of feces. To you humans, it's just shit. To all other animals, it's a landmark statement of epic proportions. For us canines, the spring thaw is a joyous occasion of olfactory glee. The set-up goes well, and we relax before showtime with a visit from my pal Lou. Lou has volunteered to do the door tonight, and he has brought along his neighbour Steve to assist with the pre-show sacraments. As everyone mellows out in the dressing room, I prowl the gig to make sure all is well. There is an element of white trash at this gig, and I'm always on the lookout for trouble. The audience is more subdued than last time, perhaps even showing a little respect, but this is Hamilton, and anything can happen. Only one drunken fight erupts, and this disturbance is created by a female. She assails her boyfriend for bringing her to this depraved performance and at one point goes down front to stare at Nash as he performs, gives him the finger and shouts "I'm outta here!" Sensing trouble, I position myself near the front door as the bouncer sends the politically correct drunken slut flying out the door and onto the curb. Her boyfriend long ago hobbled into the night. As she rose from the cold asphalt, I could tell this human bitch was tough and wanted more. I was ready. She had more tattoos than a pedigree poodle's inner thigh. I leaped for her pantleg, but was thrown off like a piece of used toilet paper. I ducked as a large rock was hurled in my direction. The rock hit the window and barely penetrated the fortress-like facade. By the time the testosterone-laden bouncers had surveyed the damage, their drunken female nemesis had disappeared into the dark and gloomy night. Exhausted from all the excitement, we pack up and head home. On the way, Nash muses that the ultimate irony would be that this woman is a forman at STELCO and the bouncers would all be seeing her on Monday morning at the plant. This is Hamilton, after all. p.s. I wonder what happened to the boyfriend?! Digger |
