I was in a months-long sit down in a nice supper club in a good band. We had a blind piano player, very good, but over the course of the evening as the 'free drinks for the band' added up, he'd go from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde.
We all had the usual pity for a blind guy, but after a while, it wore on us enough the gloves came off. We'd been asking him to back off just a little on the Old Crow, but, you all know how well that usually works, and now enough . . . . was enough.
So . . . Tonight was the Night. About three sets in (and three sheets in the wind . . . ) he needed one of us to lead him to the Men's Room . . . . except we steered him to the Ladies Lounge. He emerged forthwith in a big hurry, what with the screams and flying purses.
He comes back to the stage, where we'd strategically applied electric tape to several keys here, and here, and down there, which of course he doesn't see, nor does he realize they're there until he's playing lots of clams he'd never ordinarily play.
The drummer, myself, and he car-pooled. His wife was ALWAYS in his face when he'd come home all tore up. So when we go to drop him off, there was a ditch in front of his house, with a little foot bridge crossing it. We pull up, help him out and get one hand on the railing, and jump back in the car. He always wanted to sneak in so as not to wake her. We'd lined him up to where his hand was on the railing, all right, but it was his right hand . . . on the left rail. He takes two steps, and whoops, he's in the ditch. At the same time we sat on the horn and burned rubber, hung a U-turn, and he's pulling himself out of the mud and here she comes down the front steps giving him up the country.
He slowed waaayyyyy down on his drinks after that, and it was never mentioned again.
I love it when a plan works out.
What a great addition to my ignore list.
