I was playing at a hotel bar with a top-40/cover band in the early 80's. One night, as we were setting up, two guys and a girl wandered in. No-one paid much attention as they sat in one of the booths and unscrewed the bulb in the overhead lamp. 10 minutes later, though, we heard moans coming from the booth. When I looked over, the girl had her legs up up on the table. One of the guys was sitting next to her, somewhat blocking the view, and I couldn't see the other guy.. but it wasn't hard to figure out where he was or what he was doing.
Back in the late 60’s/early 70’s I played in a group that did originals, top 40 and “underground” FM stuff. At the time I lived with the singer/bass player (Able) and his brother (Cain) who was kinda a roadie/tech geek for the band.
You probably knew someone like Able, this guy was a chic “magnet”, but wasn’t very good looking. He had a very outgoing type A personality and made most of his money by selling certain recreational substances on the side.
His conquests were frequent (several times a week) and as diverse as night and day. From the Plain Jane to the most unusual exotic and sophisticated individuals. He became kind of a “hero” in a strange way for me. Don’t get me wrong I always had girlfriends (and an occasional groupie) but I just didn’t have that magic charisma (Mojo?) or whatever it was he possessed (did I mention access to large quantities of controlled substances?) But he really didn’t need any substances because I saw him first-hand in action numerous times at parties and gigs. Women would approach him, start conversing (they would have some laughs) and the next thing you know he and the next conquest were gone. It was fricking uncanny.
Anyway, one night we had a gig at some big local frat house, Phi Zappa Crappa or something along those lines. We had been hired to play from 9:00 pm to 1:00 am by the frat house president. The beer was already flowing and the stereo blasting when we got there to set-up. A few of the frat guys were beyond inebriated and acting like a bunch of drunken idiots which was par for the course if you ever played any frat gigs. Needless to say there were a lot of good-looking young women who appeared to be dates of the frat boys throwing the soiree. One hot blond women caught my attention since she had walked by us several times checking things out as we unloaded and began the set-up. Unfortunately, following behind her, like a new puppy, was her love-struck date - - - the frat president (our employer.)
About 30 minutes into the set-up I notice Able’s stuff is there but not hooked up and he is of course MIA. So we hook his gear up and try to find him since we wanted to do a sound check. Not long after, out of nowhere, Able comes walking toward us with a grin from ear to ear. Not thinking twice we questioned his whereabouts and said it was almost zero hour and we needed to do a sound check. He calmly lit up a cigarette, apologized for his absence and explained that he had been in the restroom taking care of some “personal” business. He gave the impression that he had some gastrointestinal trouble and needed to relieve himself so we blew off the “interrogation” and proceeded with a very quick sound check.
During the first set the blond babe (with Mr. Pres right behind her holding on to her hand) made her way through the drunken dancers right up to the front of the stage (a one foot high shoddy platform made of plywood) and started eying and grinning at you know who. This grin was different though, not a flirtatious type, but a more intimate look. I blew it off since Able’s reputation was well known in our musical circle. Anyway, since the woman had a date (the pres was so enamored with her he had no clue what was going on), I surmised that Able would get her number and link up with her on another day. After the set I jokingly mentioned to Able that he had an admirer and he said yeah they had already “met” just after we had arrived. Evidently myself and the rest of the band were to busy to notice the encounter.
He explained that he unloaded his gear and then saw the blond lady motioning to him to come over to this secluded corner where she was standing by herself. They talked shortly and then she grabbed him by the hand and took him to the restroom. There she serviced him with one of the best performances of fellatio (I’m paraphrasing here) he ever had in his Casanova-like existence. She then gave him her number and said she had to get back to the puppy dog because if she didn’t he would come looking for her. Right after he walked out of the restroom is when the band found him and started asking all the questions. (I thought to myself - No wonder he had that crap eating grin!) After he had finished his long detailed explanation I acted indifferent and said that was cool. After all, it was no big surprise to me, opportunity (once again) presented itself and Able acted upon it.
We talked a little more and then split up to do some stuff before the 2nd set. Able to get a smoke and me to get a long needed beer. As I walked towards the keg, feeling a little jealous and wondering if he even knew her name, that little voice of reason inside my head said “That lucky SOB - - - I guess some got it, some don’t.”
My first regular gigging band was a punk/classic rock cover band that dressed in drag..... that, of course is another story in itself, but I'll save that for later time. We were about to play our first real paying bar gig after a two week open mic audition landed us a regular Wednesday night stand at the venue. We planned to have a rather unique stage show, complete with a blow up doll, dismembered toy doll body parts, beach balls to throw out to the crowd and other random, miscellaneous items.... to top it all off, there were the 4 of us completely decked out in makeup, skirts, and stockings. Anyone walking into the the bar that night knew that they were in for something more than "the norm." So the show was going well until a "wardrobe malfunction" occurred compliments of yours truly. We were doing a cover of "Big Balls" by AD/DC and I decided that it would be a brilliant idea to get on an old hip-pity hop that we "borrowed" from my drummer's work (he was working in child care at the time- real nice for a dude whose night job consisted of him being a stick swinging cross dresser!). So I jump on this hip-pity hop and start bouncing toward the crowd- what I didn't realize was that while I was doing this, something had slowly started creeping out of the giant tear in my fishnet stockings. We were about halfway through the song when I finally looked down and gasped in utter horror as I realized that I was giving the crowd a full show. I never jumped up faster in my life! I couldn't look at the crowd the rest of the song. Everyone in the audience that I talked to afterward said that they didn't notice, so either the lighting saved my life or those people we're just lying to save me the embarrassment...... To this day, I can't hear that song without my face getting red as a ripe tomato!
So I figured that after the "Big Balls" mishap, the rest of the show would go over with no problems- WRONG! Remember, at this time we are all very young (I was the oldest at 20) and very inexperienced at the music game and that showed when we tried to run our own sound. We had a very cheap PA system that barely pushed out enough to power the small bar we were playing. We used the cheapest of cheap extension chords- and to top it all off, we decided to plug EVERYTHING (PA, amps, lights, etc.) into a power outlet that we bought from the dollar store... can you see where this is going already? We were almost done with our second set and we were playing our last song when all of a sudden, our outlet exploded and started shooting sparks causing everything to lose power mid-song. After we put the sparks out and saw that our power outlet was completely fried, we had to have the bartender help us find another outlet in order to continue the night. All the while the crowd was looking at us like- "Is this part of the show?" We got everything plugged back in and after about 20 minutes we had the whole system up and running again. I got on the mic and said the only thing I could think of at a time like this- "Well, now that we almost burned the place down, I think we have a song to finish." We picked up right where we left off without skipping a beat, finished the song and then went on our 15 minute set break... it was an awesome way to break in what ended up being a long weekly stand at this particular venue.
Back in 1972 I played in a 5-piece group that performed somewhat avant-garde, original, fast paced, highly syncopated, strange time signature instrumental music. I played the guitar, sax and banged on any percussive instrument that was available. My other bandmates were a good buddy on guitar, his brother-in-law on drums, a third guitarist and a bassist.
We got this gig for a private party from a guy (Mark) and his girlfriend who had heard us at a local club. It turns out that these guys had done business with my father and knew him fairly well. After talking to my dad I learned that Mark was a “trust fund kid” from Chicago who came from a very well-to-do family and that his blond girlfriend had been some kind of model (she was gorgeous).
Anyway, we are driving to the gig with me riding shotgun navigating us to our destination. We begin driving up this rather steep driveway, to a two story split-level swanky house in the foothills, when out the passenger side window I see this large pool area filled with 20 to 30 naked people. Some of them are performing the ”dance of the two-headed beast” (you know what I mean) around and in the pool. I immediately alert my band mates, as a civic duty, who responded with everything from “what do you get us into” to “very cool.” After all we had just ended the 60’s and there was still the air of Peace, Love, Dove.
Upon arrival, our host and hostess were very gracious and offered us many types of beer from around the world, fine wine, champagne or mixed drinks. Seafood (smoked swordfish, lobster, clams, etc.), or the meat du jour -- barbecued filet mignon. There were also other foreign substances available for consumption that I will not delve into at this point in time (but you get the picture). We ate and drank until we were stuffed and then proceeded to go and play the first set. We had set-up on the large second floor balcony, just off the spacious living room, that over-looked the pool area and the surrounding beautiful countryside. Mark told us that the only rule in the house that had to be followed was that no clothing of any kind was allowed outside in the pool area (we had already figured that out).
During the first set some women clad in bathrobes had come up from the pool area and sat behind us on some benches next to our drummer Chris. One lady was full-figured and very well-endowed by the hand of our maker if you know what I mean (I’ll call her Lotta). It appears that this woman had her mind set on Chris since she was eying him like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. Anyway, Chris had a full complement of drums including the double bass kicks, and a high drum throne with a quart bottle of beer between his legs. He never played or traveled without a quart bottle. We finished the set and after mingling I noticed that Lotta was about 3 sheets to the wind and Chris was close behind at about 2.5.
We begin the second set and about half way through this rather long improvisational section of a song we were performing my buddy and I realize that there are no drum beats, nothing at all. We turn around and see what appears to be Chris who had fallen over backwards into the living room still on his drum stool, the beer between his legs, his back on top of Lotta who was showing all her well endowed self to the shocked host, hostess and guests in the living room. Drums and cymbals with stands were laid out all over and there was beer flowing out of the bottle onto Chris, Lotta and the carpet. We went to his aid, helped clean up the mess, had a good laugh, finished the gig, got paid and got out of Dodge.
Later we found out from Chris that during that song Lotta couldn’t wait any longer and made her move on him. She apparently came from behind and placed a breast on each of his shoulders and started shaking and a shimmying. Of course Chris freaked, lost his balance and fell over backwards screaming as he fell right on top of ole Lotta. This display of buffoonery and pandemonium was later deemed by me The Well Endowed Incident.
Chris did later link up with Lotta (for good or bad) and none of us went out to the pool area during the gig. I later learned through my dad that Mark eventually blew all his money and had to get a real job. His beautiful girlfriend started selling pantyhose for some well known company.
The band I was playing drums in at the time were playing somewhat of a small dive bar that was next to a comedy club. We'd played this bar for years and knew that the type of crowd we get was always dependent on what type of comedians were next door.
We were auditioning bass players at the time as our current one was moving on once we found his replacement. One of the guys we had auditioned showed up to see what we sounded like outside the practice room. We invited him up to play a few songs.
This night was pretty slow and the few people there were very drunk and for lack of a better term......trashy as hell. The only 3 women in the bar got up and started dancing, either the booze or the lack of any other people in the bar was making them brave and a bit exhibitionist. Two of the girls started flashing us everything they had to show..... and I mean everything. It was at this point that we noticed the bass player sitting in with us was behind a column and a PA speaker stack and he wasn't seeing any of this. We finally got his attention half way through the song and told him to look at the show we were getting from these ladies. He looked around the speakers just in time to see the 2 cute girls lowering their tops as their 300lbs friend got brave enough to take her top off. All the bass player got was a view of a very large lady no longer wearing a shirt with her bra twisted in to a point she could no longer get it un-twisted.
That bass player ultimately got the job and stayed with us for about 2 years.
I'm the lead singer in a 4 piece rock cover band.
Last December, we were booked to play a gig the day before new years eve.
Unfortunately, I had the flu, but we didn't want to cancel so we went ahead with the gig. Whilst we were setting up I had a hot whiskey at the bar before going onstage...I was feeling like crap but I felt the hot whiskey was helping. Anyway, when we started playing...a very drunk hot chick came up very close to me and without saying a word she started to undo my trousers for all to see. Luckily, during a guitar solo, I quickly buttoned my trousers and I made sure the crazy drunk lady couldn't reach me if she got the urge to do so again during our set.... Meanwhile, the rest of the band were quite amused and played on regardless. At the break, the guys were laughing uncontrollably. I even told my girlfriend what happened and she jokingly told me to wear reinforced pants in future...
It is true what some women say about men, that they cannot multitask...
Well I certainly couldn't whilst trying to nurse a head cold, and a boner and trying to control that crazy chick at the gig all at the same time.
I was the guitar player in an original rock band back in the early part of the century. We were playing one of the many dives in Sacramento.
We were playing a cover of Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne, and I had just whipped out the same Randy Rhodes solo which usually gets the crowd wild. I always felt like the crowd dared me to do it like I couldn't. When I finished the solo, I got the usual applause...except when I looked up, I found that the applause was actually for the two strippers that started making out on the pool table next to me. I couldn't help but laugh at myself.
I played a really popular upscale jazz club three nights a week for about 6 years. It was jammed every night and the owners got a lot of business from local strippers. On a number of occasions a girl would come in and flash their new boob job to the band. But one night was extra special.
Two ladies came in and one proceeded to put on quite a show displaying her new tatas to us and she even flashed the crowd. But it was the other girl that really got my attention. As the leader and saxophonist, I was upfront leading the band through a number, when she comes up on stage, faces me (her back to the crowd), and lifts her skirt to reveal her panty-less crotch. Then she started riding my leg! After about two minutes, with the look on her face, I’m pretty sure had an orgasm. We didn’t miss a beat but the band (and me) were just awestruck. My pants had to go to the drycleaner.
We had kind of a pretty boy lead guitarist/singer, who the girls were always falling over. We were playing a bar gig in Aberdeen, Washington and the place was packed to the gills. Our singer was working the crowd and they were loving it. He tended to wear spandex, with little or nothing left to the imagination. The bar was packed, and the crowd a bit on the rough side. In the crowd there was an elderly lady, who looked like she may have been homeless. She was in front,on the dance floor by herself, crammed up against the stage trying to catch our pretty boys eye. Winking, lifing her dress up. He tried to look right past her and was concentrating on singing without gagging, when all at once, she reached up, and grabbed him by the nads, and squeezed with everything she had... She would not let go, so here was our guitarist, standing in front of a packed house, on his tiptoes, trying to dance his way free of this old ladies death grip - and he's still trying to sing the song!
It lasted for about 20 seconds and he finally was able to break free. We all pulled our mic stands back about two feet.
I played a 2 week run of Fiddler on the Roof in a Community Theater production. The house was small, the stage & pit egregiously so; we had room only for a quintet just between the stage and the front row, and played it klezmer-style. The musical director/pianist was an old friend, and we were having a ball. I like local theater gigs because the band gets tight quickly (having a score to read), and then it's over before anybody becomes an asshole.
But local theater actors are sometimes blessed with more ego than talent, and more crazy than is strictly necessary. But, hey- ain't that one of the better parts of the gig?
One of the female leads had a huge crush on the MD, and on the last night of the run raised her skirts a bit too high at him during the wedding dance, exposing an untidy but historically accurate bush in our direction.
After the audience had straggled out, she made a point of coming over to ask, "Did you see when I flashed you?"
In unison, the quintet (even the two female players) angrily shouted, "YES!"