Last time we left you we spun a brief, and an admittedly amnesiac, tale of our drunken night in Pensacola. Well, be sure that the next night in New Orleans (henceforth referred to as NOLA) was just as booze-fueled and chemically enhanced as the prior.
We arrived and went straight to our friend Bethany’s place, which is on a lovely street sandwiched between two strange sketchy neighborhoods. We finally got Gertie (our tour van if you haven’t kept up) tinted for a bit of added security. She kind of looks like an FBI van now. Anyway, we were treated to homemade chicken salad with salty baked goods.
We split for the venue around seven-thirty and ended up driving around and around trying to find Siberia bar with very little luck. Apparently, the place lacks any sort of signage, and when we finally did locate it, it was closed. We were all a bit worried we were about to walk into one of those tour horror stories where the show gets shut down and nobody notifies anybody, but shit, we were in fucking NOLA there was no way a bad time could be had. Luckily, this wasn’t the case and the venue owner/bartender Jenny came and unlocked the door around eight. And the waiting game began...
We got pretty drunk. The first act was a decent acoustic folk thing titled simply GOOD, and the “second act” (the two opening acts were just acoustic duos who traded off singing duties and called it different bands) was something that words fail to define. The best description I could possibly come up with was “an androgynous celestial wood nymph warbling over droning guitars and generally freaking people the fuck out.” It was more outsider performance art than anything, and I’m not quite sure where these people were found. On the brightside it gave us a chance to buddy up with Jenny over our collective distaste for the acts preceding us, and once she saw the we were actually a decent band the shots kept flowing, and the free PBR was plentiful.
The act after us was a form of rock that was okay, but they were jacking off somewhere for most of our set and reminded me of the kids in high school I didn’t like.
We managed to stay on Jenny’s good side long enough to have her invite us out to another bar upon closing Siberia. So along with her boyfriend Micah we headed out into the night.
Long story short: bonds were made, rules were broken, and we left the bar as the sun began to rise. New Orleans as it should be. Honestly, it was one of the best nights on tour I’ve ever had.
The next day was slightly painful. Two hangovers in a row for the first two days of tour can quickly drive tempers to the breaking point. We headed to Jackson, Mississippi for our show at Sam’s Lounge, connected to the Budget Travel Lodge off of I-55.
Upon arriving, I quickly conjured thoughts of that scene in Blues Brothers in the honky tonk where they end up playing the theme from Rawhide. It wasn’t that bad, it really wasn’t anything at all. There were no locals so it ended up being us and another touring band called Senryu who were great, but unfortunately this leads to the 50/50 door split and money out of our pockets. With the relatively low turnout it didn’t account for much. Although, the bar did provide the bands with a cooler full of High Life. Senryu drank hardly any and left for their next show immediately after, ergo Only Thieves got drunk for free with beers left over to take with them (As of press time, I am knocking one back). Win.
We spent the night on some girl’s filthy floor. I woke up to an eviscerated and smashed mouse corpse mere inches from my mouth. At that point I got up to sleep in the van. She did donate some lunch meat that provided us with a few sandwiches, and we were off to Shreveport.
Next time on Life and Crimes: Harrowing tales from Shreveport, and Austin city limits.
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