About our fifth or sixth gig. We play this little rathole in a small town. Nice stage, good sound system, excellent soundman.
Crowd love us.
Soundman loves us.
Great show! We get done, and I think, "wow, we're going to be back here a lot!"
Just then, my wife tells me, "he's pissed."
I ask, "who?"
She says, "Brian." (the club owner.)
Brian is upset because my wife brought her own monitors and splitter, as she is prone to do. He spits and screams about it, and says no one told her she could bring that stuff on his stage. (the soundman did, but not in Brian's world)
So I wait awhile, and I call Brian, to try and mend fences. I tell him we won't bring any other sound gear into his club, and apologize to him. He proceeds to tell me how amateurish and lousy my band is. He tells us we're the worst band he's ever heard, and then tells me what a great venue he has. I take it.
After some time, I go up there. I tell him we've been practicing, and we have a better drummer now, and we've really got a good show. He tells me it was never about that, he's still mad that my wife dared bring monitors into his club.
Two years later, that great soundman dies, and we play at his memorial show. All our area peers are there, and the other bands, the audience, pretty much everybody says we rocked it, and we were fantastic.
A year after that, the new soundman says we can play a Thursday, to try us out. If his crowd of regulars likes us, we're in. Crowd of regulars gushes about how great we are, holds up lighters like it's a concert during Comfortably Numb, and everybody bids us goodnight like they're our pals.
New Soundman is the booking guy. Won't return phone calls to my wife. Finally, I get ahold of him one night, and he is rude on the phone, and says he told her not to call anymore; he's booked for the next three million years, and if he wants us, he'll call us.
So we've played that club three times, and all three times, gone over great.
Owner still thinks we suck, but not as much as I think he sucks. Of course, the owner, bartender, sound guy, and pretty much everyone who works there, or is a regular there, are hard core drug addicts. Meth, coke, weed, you name it, and they worry that we're a bunch of straights because we don't party with them.
You figure it out.