» Bling Kong Spring 2K7 Tour Diary: Part 1/4 "En el nombre del Padre, del Hijo, y del Espiritu Santo"
Wednesday, February 28th, 2007"Do you think keeping the hazard lights on is going to drain the battery?" Sizzler asks from the driver's seat.
"Nah," answers Cocksucker. "It takes very little power. Besides, what are you going to do, turn them OFF?"
Cocksucker raises a good point. We are, after all, on the shoulder of the New Jersey Turnpike. It's closing in on 10 PM, it's been dark since we left Brooklyn, and we'll be dead for sure if those four-way flashers go off. Though morale is very low--having to cancel the first gig of your four-night tour will do that--we don't actually want to die.
Speaking of four-way flashers, I'm in the middle seat of the Vangina on hold with U-Haul's emergency hotline. For once, what is stranding us isn't the 'gina. We heard a loud and foreboding THUNK followed by worried looks at Sizzler and around the van followed by "oh god pull over the wheel came off the trailer." After careful inspection it was determined that, indeed, one of the two wheels managed to detach itself from the trailer full of our gear. Apparently the display of sparks made by the axle against the pavement was truly impressive. I was too busy wetting my pants to notice.
It was rough getting out of Brooklyn, too. I was two hours late to load-out with the van and trailer because the first couple trailers I tried to get from U-Haul were no good, and I had to wait for some rewiring before I could leave the premises with something we could put our lives in for a week. Then the first gas station we tried to patronize didn't have any freaking gas. Then the BQE was chock full o'asshats, and the chains on the trailer hitch started dragging on the pavement (at least in a BQE parking lot, you can hop out and fiddle with stuff and not die). We had come to terms with the fact that we would be missing soundcheck in Wilmington, DE, but so long as we made it there for our 11 PM set time, we'd be okay.
Prank on you, Bling Kong! No show for you!
Trucks are buzzing by with alarming proximity to us so I freak out and continue to be on hold from outside the van. At this point a dashing member of the highway patrol comes to our aid (yet again!), sets up flares, and calls a tow truck. Since the turnpike is a private road, the highway patrol has to radio for a tow (motorists, take note!) and U-Haul will have to meet us at the tow yard. As he parts, with a wink and a smile: "I've got to run now, just heard a report of a wheel on the side of the road down a piece here."
He tells me to get back in the van. So we chill. And chill. And chill some more. FINALLY, the tow truck shows up, just as the flares are starting to go out. They're a little gruff with Cocksucker, and look a teensy bit frightening.
"That's the sort of guy who would fuck you in the ass with your pants on," says Milkshake.
Boobs Garcia carefully considers. "Yeah. That's the kind of guy who makes holes."
"STAY IN THE TRUCK," he bellows at Cocksucker as he climbs back into the shotgun seat. Please, no one point out the obvious. Sizzler helps supervise the uncoupling of the trailer from the 'gina, with much rocking of the van ensuing. We make sounds of coupling to pass the time, and well, come on, they set that one up so well we couldn't NOT take it.
Eventually the trailer comes free and they give us the go-ahead to get the heck out, but first, the address of where they're taking us. Which is, of course, different from the address the highway patrolman gave me, which is the address I gave U-Haul. I spend another 20 minutes of my life on hold. Eeeeeaaaaaauuughghrhrrhghghhgh. Another tow truck pulls up alongside us. Perhaps our fabulousness makes people nervous? I can see dimly through the fog on the windows that the word "Beaver" appears prominently in the title of the tow company. Finally letting me off hold, U-Haul says they'll come out in the morning. Rad. So we're stuck at one of the lovely motels off the turnpike exit. The tow dudes say they can take it from here, so we drive off to the next exit.
Cocksucker, Totally, and myself chill at the tow garage while the rest of the crew run a reconnaissance mission for lodging and hooch. It is sad hanging at the tow garage waiting for your gimpy trailer to gimp its ass over on the back of a tow truck. Fucking vangina, huh? Soon 'gina, band, and trailer are reunited and of course there were things missed out on. Apparently our chosen motel is protected by "abject poverty." Don't believe me? You're in luck, you don't have to (photo / Milkshake):
A bar sells us some booze and we have ourselves a rad party (BK to front desk clerk: "Where's the nearest liquor store?" Front desk: "Oh, you guys don't need a liquor store"). It's time for a rousing game of I Never (otherwise known as Never Have I Ever)! Everyone goes around in a circle saying something that they haven't done like so: "I Never (or Never Have I Ever)...strapped on a dildo to bone someone in the ass." Then, anyone who has indulged someone's penchant for pegging has to drink and are thus outed. For those of you playing at home, see if you can pin the skeleton on the Bling Kong member! Drag, watersports, foot play, passed-out girlfriend's hand. I start to wonder if people are saying things they have to drink to because they have a story about it that they want to tell. Or just because they want an excuse to drink the day away faster. Either way, it's entertaining.
I'm the first to say uncle and retreat to the girls' hotel room to sleep. Gotta save my up all night drunken antics for Lexington, after all. I'm so excited to be repeating the three best cities on the October tour, but having a serious venue upgrade in Cleveland. There was so much great feedback from people and press and record stores the last time out, it makes me feel all excited inside. Here's to three more rad nights.
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