Archive for August, 2016

Here’s The Thing

In that couple hours leading up to a show, in the venue, I’m the nervous band manager.  I wonder, “Is anyone going to be here tonight?  Will our people show up?  Will the bar’s regulars show up?  Does this bar even have any regulars? Is the bar going to make any money?  Will we have enough bodies in the room to be asked back?”  I fret, posting my last bits of promotion (really, barely veiled pleas) on my social media.

In that couple hours leading up to a show, in the venue, my social anxiety is ramped up to a million.  I don’t have a role during this time, not really, not after we confirm whether or not the band gets a comp tab and the bar manager for the night lets me know whatever it is I need to know.  I often sit there by myself, painfully aware there is not much for me to do but watch the sound person and the band get set.  Slouching into myself, I feel particularly self-conscious sitting there because…

In that couple hours leading up to a show, in the venue, I’m 41, fat, overdressed at least from the waist down, and I always have on a ton of makeup and glitter.  It doesn’t seem to matter which room we are playing; I look out of place.  When I have to go to the bathroom or when I walk through the venue, I imagine I can feel the eyes of the patrons and staff alike on me, though it might just be my social anxiety kicking up again.

In the last 30 minutes leading up to a show, in the venue, I’ve changed into the rest of my outfit, always topped by giant feather pigtails and a bright lip color.  This time I know there are eyes on me Sometimes they are curious, other times they are rolling.  “Who the hell is that and who does she think she is?”

Up to the very last minute leading up to a show, in the venue, I feel it all–I feel anxious, I feel fat, I feel old, and I feel conspicuous.

HOWEVER

After soundcheck, when it is time to do this for real, I look out into the venue and I think, “Just you wait, motherfuckers.”  I’m energized, I’m gorgeous, and I AM conspicuous because damn right I am.

Because when that show starts, that stage is mine.  This band?  It is mine.  This microphone?  Sure as fuck is mine…and you’re about to find out why.

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