Tuesday - France

ok. I have 20 minutes of internet left and if I want to continue thinking of myself as a good daughter, I should save some time to skype call my mom. But oh GOSH the past two days have left me with lots of words, so we'll just talk about Tuesday for now.

I'm not quite sure how to begin...

Tuesday

We pulled up to the venue, and parked while Mike ran in to assess the situation. We began to conjure up all sorts of horrible scenarios when a second look at the info sheet revealed the venue's capacity to be 40. Not 400. Not 40 times 3. Just..40. In about 3 minutes, Mike hops back in the van and says, "Literally, I can jump from one side to the other. We're not going to fit in there."

And really, we shouldn't have. I could've done about 1 cartwheel in there and got half way through the second one before I crashed into the wall. But we decided to play an acoustic set and squeezed ourselves in there akwardly in front of the bar. Mike and Rob on acoustics, Dylan celloing right before me; Travis on the "stage;" Kendal borrowing the other bands drums; and me perched up on the bar countertop. silly. Maybe 20 people squished themselves down the stairs and into this hobbit hole. We played about 3 old songs we never, ever play, and tried some acoustic versions of other things. All in all, we did the best with what we had. A girl came up to me afterward and said she cried during our set. ? How we accomplished that with our hodgepodge impromtu arrangements, I have no cluse. But somehow we sold some merch and garnered some applause. bizzare.

I skipped the part about how we ate Chinese food for the third night in a row. We come to France, we eat Chinese...is there some connection here that i've missed? Anyway, that was hilarious. I don't have the time, nor the skill in political correctness to explain the comic value of our waiter. Funny, funny man, continually speaking to us in French about food we didn''t really understand, and opened and closed the night by obnoxiously banging on a tiny, tiny gong.

I will also skip the part about how I slept. Sometimes an absence of words is best, I think.

tomorrow, hopefully I'll get a chance to tell you about what it's like to drive through the mountains for over seven hours and then meet the worst promoter ever.

but until then, I'm going to sleep in this swanky, free, hotel.

night,
-aisha