So where was I?
Oh yes. Not even a little bit prepared. (Neither are you, btw.)
Rehearsal ended, we packed up everything, the guys continued on to their bachelor party dinner thingy, Steve and I attended a brief BBQ, and by 8:30pm, we were on our way to Richmond.
I think this is where I should mention that NONE of us have ever been to the Richmond Night Market. In my head, I’m thinking it’s like a market…where you can buy stuff…and it’s only open at night…
Friends, let’s imagine this area of Richmond like a sandwich, shall we? One slice of your bread is the Sky Train, and the other slice is the River Rock Casino. Your filling in between the bread? Bright lights, about a million Asian people (not being racist, it’s just a fact) and for every 2 people, there is a booth/vendor that wants to sell you a Hello Kitty backpack or a Deep Fried Mars Bar.
So. We take the plunge into this boiling cauldron of delights, knowing that we are the band, we need to get in to set up by 9:30pm, we need to find our “agent”, Dominic, there.is.nothing.else.
We drive in. Tell the security that we are important. Cool, fine. We keep driving. We reach the stage. We get out. We are approached.
“Where have you been? You’re supposed to go on at 9 o’clock!”
Uh. Hold the phone. Sir, that is incorrect. We are the Weezer cover band, here for 10:30. Are you Dominic?
“10:30? That can’t be right. And no, I’m not Dominic.”
Where is Dominic?
“What are you talking about? No one named Dominic works here, now let’s get you unloaded, people are waiting!”
Friends, this is where we learned that there are TWO Richmond Night Markets. The one we were at was expecting another band that failed to show up by 9. The one we’d actually booked with was way smaller and there was no way we were gonna be able to locate it in time to perform by 10:30.
So we said, “Sorry, Dominic!” and started unloading.
Now a buzz has filled the air. This band is so pumped, you guys. You have no idea. “Holy crap, what just happened, we’re playing at the wrong venue but it’s even bigger, our groom is going to lose his shit, heck I’M going to lose my shit” was the general consensus all around.
I am feeling so prepared. I have my phone for pictures/video, I have Steve’s phone for pictures/video, I….
I need a bathroom.
I politely ask not-Dominic where I might find one. He gives me long, complicated directions on how to get to a place that sounds really far away.
“Or,” he finishes, “There’s always backstage.”
Oh, thank Goodness!
I look backstage. No bathroom. I look again, cause sometimes I’m dumb and again, no bathroom. I ask Steve, “Have you seen a bathroom back here?” He hasn’t. We both go up to not-Dominic and ask again. He laughs. “Oh, you believed me? I actually meant the bushes!”
Steve: “Oh, well that’s okay, she grew up in the woods, she’s used to it.”
Well, it’s kinda true.
So I tromp into the darkness. Literally. I am very happy that the distant city lights reflected on the NEAR BY RIVER or else I might not be telling this story.
I find my secluded little spot, get ready to do my business, and —
I SAT. ON A FRICKEN. THORN BUSH.
I am now in the dark, peeing by a river, and trying not to scream while pulling thorn branches out of my derriere.
When I returned, I discovered that a couple of things had happened.
The groom had arrived. Our young, fresh-faced, innocent groom had arrived.
He was wearing a white T-shirt that had full tattoo arm sleeves attached to them.
He looked kinda like this.
*not an entirely accurate representation
And probably already a thousand hits on YouTube.
I don’t know where he came from, I don’t know what he was doing or why he was being a Teletubby, but I was totally okay with all of it. (Rumour has it he is one of the groom’s brothers…)
Concert begins, and it, of course, rocks. Thank God Asian people listen to Weezer or else it might have been a tough crowd. You know that phrase, “I’m Big in Japan” ? Well, now I know where it comes from. Marky & the Panthers are gonna be the next Asian sensation.
Steve’s guitar solo was so awesome, he almost fell over.
Right about here was where I ran out of battery and room on BOTH phones. No more documenting.
Right about here was where the concert ended, and the band was doing one of those extended endings of a song, you know what I mean? Like, drums are crashing, strings are noodling, keys are smashing, all on the same chord just waiting for the resolution of going out with a bang!
The whole time this was occurring, Po the Teletubby was pumping his ukulele up and down high above his head – I assumed this was his participation because he couldn’t actually play it due to having abnormally large red-pad hands.
But no. He was psyching himself UP for what was coming next. He lifted the uke by the neck, lifted it, lifted it…and on the drum’s last bang, Po brought that ukulele down onto the stage with such force that people in the crowd were screaming and grabbing bits of the Po-lele to take home and scrapbook. I mean, it was smashed.
My first reaction was to scream like the crowd, “YAAAAAHHHHH WOOOOOO!!!!”
And then I cried a little on the inside, because dead ukulele.
And then I screamed some more because it was awesome and why did I not have a video of it?
After we packed everything up, not-Dominic asked us to come back anytime. We were, apparently, a hit!
To finish the night, we wandered through the booths a little and partook of the many things you may regret in the morning. Steve and I were home by 1:30am, knowing full well that we had to get up early to set up even more instruments and play even more music at church the next day.
So worth it.