No Women

On Thursday, I got this email from my friend Steve:

"My friend Prescott's band is playing Sat. night, and they're recording the show for a CD. No cover. And there should be lots of grad. students (single!) there."

Sounds good to me, so Shaun, Tom and I packed into my car and headed off to Milwaukee last night. I tried to take a better way to Steve's house and got lost. Uh, the neighborhood we were in didn't exactly look welcoming. I did find the street I usually use to cut over. Shaun and Tom were getting a little restless by then. I drove up and down the street, and nothing looked familiar. We were starting to get shouts and such from people on corners, so I was relieved when I found Capital Drive. I found my way over to Steve's street, parked, and looked for his house. We couldn't find it, but we did manage to perk the interest of several households, what with three dipshits walking along the sides of their houses looking for the second floor entrance. Turns out we were one block off. Shaun and Tom really started giving me shit then.

After moving one block over, the five of us (including Dan) made our way to Max's Red Eye. The bar is a dive on the divide between an OK neighborhood, and the type where people heckle you on corners. The bartender looked like a haggard Warrant groupie and talked like she smoked 10 packs of menthols a day, and the croud of about 8 people looked like the typical crowd of a dive bar. We got our drinks and waited for the women to show up. We watched about 45 minutes of band set-up and about two women that Steve knew showed up. Shaun and I figured this was par for the course, since every time we visit Steve, there's no one around and when we don't, he always says we missed a good time.

The night took a turn for the best/worst when the band finally started playing. It took Shaun and Tinkles about five seconds to start heckling the band. It may have been impolite, since Steve works in the UWM English Department with a couple of them, but they were a sub par death metal band, which itself is a sub par genre of music. It didn't take the band long to notice Shaun and Tinkles laughing, since we were about three feet from the band. Shaun requested "When the Children Cry", and the lead singer asked someone to punch Shaun in the face. When they launched in to their non-masterpiece, I looked at Steve, who looked confused and he asked if we should go. So a third of the audience picked up and left.

We then headed over to the north side to some place called the BBC. Unfortunately, it was a sports bar and not a bar based on my news source of choice. Steve told us the guys in the band laugh at him for doing stand-up, so then we didn’t regret heckling them. Not much more of note happened except two dipshits with modified Harleys chugged around the street, a bum passed out in a chair on the sidewalk café portion of the bar, and I tried and failed to get a Curious George stuffed animal at the Perkins in Waukesha.

God that band sucked.