The gigs... they done failed.

And all in the space of a week.

  "I'm about to throw you a curveball; we have to postpone the recording session." 2 weeks before. Not terrible I suppose - but of course enough time to not replenish the gig I turned down at the same time.

   Gig cancelled because the songwriter, paying by the door, decided that the gig couldn't happen without a minimum of 4 rehearsals, 3 hours each.  Doing the math, as I tend to do, it paid approximately $1.75 an hour, generously assuming a payment of $25. Next...

   Rehearsal. 5 hours. 16 songs. Charts put on ipad. Notes made. Singer gets sick. Gig gets "postponed hopefully to a date we can all make".  And of course, as of now,  it's a date that I can't make.

   Gig in the West Village on Halloween. Had to bring my own amp, wheeling it through 5 blocks of total chaos. Played for nearly 3 straight hours, that being the single longest set I've ever played in my life. Someone was kind enough to pay our bar tab, of which my portion was $4.50 - though you'll be happy to know I wouldn't have paid it anyway. We made that shitty club about 20 times what our bar tab was by not taking a break. That's a conservative estimate.

Outdoor gig at 9:30 am. 45 degrees with drizzle. Uncovered stage. No gear provided, despite being in an area nearly impossible to drive to at that time. I can't really complain because I left my gear in the singer's car from the gig described previously, which he kindly drove to this event.  It's still in his car because the gig that I would've used it for during the time that I write this masterpiece was cancelled. More on that shortly.

  Recording session for an independent film. Same day. This one should really have it's own chapter;

   Hey, so it'll take either a half hour or 7 hours depending on whether or not people have their shit together. 
   It started with what was to be me being picked up on Broadway and Canal Street. So I go to Broadway and Canal Street.
   Change of plans - take the 7 train in Queens to the end and you'll be picked up there instead. Leave as soon as possible. Like, right now.
    I chug my beer and stuff my $20 lunch down my throat; yup, on Broadway and Canal, lunch costs $20 (not including the beer). An hour later, I arrive at the last stop on the 7 train. 20 minutes later I get picked up. 4 hours after that, I take my instrument out of its case. All for 1 song. I'm going to hold the production company to the extra $2.50 I had to spend on an extra subway ride, nevermind the fact that it added an extra hour and a half to the session. It's questionable whether or not I will get it.

   So after all this, a last minute gig comes up tonight, at the time of this entry. A fun one, a remedy for this trainwreck of a week, mostly winging some fun tunes, no rehearsal, but 7 tunes to check out, via Youtube links. We love Youtube links. So I save the Youtube videos as mp3's (yup, I'm that slick), make a playlist, write charts - and of course it was not to be; 4 hours before the gig, the club cancelled because it was having problems. Wouldn't you know it, the same club that had me bring my own gear on the busiest night of the year, and charged a bar tab after playing 3 straight hours.

And there you have it - a week in the life of a gigfail scrabooker. Stay tuned for the next entry - the only thing that stops the gigfail scrapbook are gigs that don't fail. See you soon.