Friday, April 2, 2010

Colmar, France

I'm sitting backstage at the Fleche d'Or in Paris, France listening to Mount Eerie soundcheck trying to sum up Colmar. After a great soundcheck, maybe the best yet, and a wonderful day wandering this small and beautiful city we returned to the venue and played a really good show to approximately fifteen people who I didn't get the impression liked No Kids very much as was evidenced by not one item purchased from the merch table.

C'est la vie...

Oh, I also accidentally insulted Jessie of Pterodactyl. He was telling a story about the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Ex-Models and it just kinda fizzled out and went nowhere and I said "Wow that story really went nowhere" and then walked out of the room. Suddenly I realized, oh, I don't actually know this guy, he might have taken that wrong. Sure enough I walked back in the room to apologize and he responded with whatever, fuck you or something similiar so I tried to say I was just joking but I think he was really pissed. Damn my cursed yet beautiful mouth...

After the show we drove to the hotel and discovered there was nobody there and it was completely automated. Phil pressed the button for assistance and when someone answered he said hello and they said bonjour and when he explained what was going on there was a long silence, not a pause, but a hang-up. We stood there a minute confused so he pushed the button again. A different person answered with a quiet bonjour as if we just interrupted a casual liaison and Phil once again explained the situation we were in, the distant voice explained that they were in Paris and once again the person hung up. It was unbelievable. We stood there freezing with all our baggage at two in the morning, so we called the promoter and he said that Pterodactyl were on the way and they have a code for us to get in. When they arrived we tried the codes and they didn't work so we called the promoter back and he explained how the codes work and we finally got in.

Only to find the rooms were small. Very very small. Like fucking closet small. Neither Nick nor I got in any line dancing as per our usual routine...

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