This weekend was busy for my rock band. We had a Friday night gig Downtown, which was loosely billed as a birthday show for members of a couple different bands. Parking is always difficult for late night Downtown on the weekends. When you have a car full of band equipment, the closer you can park to the bar, the better. We usually get down to the show around 9 p.m. no matter when we play. This allows us to get a decent spot and walk less distance with amps and drums in our hands.

On Friday, we lucked out. A truck pulled out of a spot right in front of The Atomic Cantina when we arrived. It is always a dream to park my sketchy Chevy Caprice (think old cop car) right in front of the gig. It's happened only a couple times, and we've played out over fifty times. Park & bring your gear in right in the front door. Beautiful.

The show went well. We wished everyone Happy Birthday, tore through our loud rowdy set with some serious fervor, and rocked along with Romeo Goes To Hell (soon to be called something else because the guitarist who named the band left the band, tried to come back, the rest of the band decided not to let him back, and drama ensued and so on and so forth). We even got some complements on our crazy style of playing. It still sounds strange for anyone to say we're excellent. At the end of the night, we got paid, loaded our equipment back in my car right outside the bar, took the gear back to our practice space and went home. Good gig. Just how it should be.

On Saturday, I was pretty beat. Jumping around on stage and lifting heavy equipment makes me stiff and sore. Who needs a gym when you have ROCK! As fate would have it, we also had another gig on Saturday night. Same bar, but a different deal. It was called The Fool Your Fans Show. Eight bands, one night, with a twist. Each band was paired with another and learned three of their songs. This meant we played three songs by Hollis Wake and they played three of our songs. Six other bands learned three songs from another band, and Ta Dah! A full night of fooling your fans. Neat, huh?

The other thing is that it was a benefit show. The normal cut for the bands plus donations at the door went to help the local public school music programs. Specifically, I think it went to a rock band program at one of the middle schools. Buy some guitars for kids. Sounds good to me. Anything for the kids, right?

Same thing as the night before, we get Downtown around 9 p.m. The coveted spot right outside the bar is taken, but my brother (who is also in the band) sees one good spot in the bank parking lot across the street. These are also good spots. The vacant area is in the drive-thru area, and we park right where someone would send the air tube to a teller. There is a back line for this show (drums & amps provided), so we didn't have much gear to take inside. Just instruments & cords. Hooray!

We rock our three Hollis Wake songs plus one of our own. We did a threesome song of theirs especially raunchy as one of our guitarists told a sordid sex story as I humped the stage. That's late night rock entertainment! After our set, I put my bass back in my trunk and noticed that my car was blocked in. Not only had some beater car parked behind us, but an obnoxious truck had parked directly in front, pinning my car in the air tube area.

No worries. It was 11 p.m. We would watch the other bands play for a couple more hours. Someone would move. We went back in, watched the Hollis Wake stumble through our songs with glee, shook hands with other bands, hugged the organizer girls, and wished everyone well. My brother and I went back to the car, and it was still blocked. It was "only" 1:15 a.m. Bars don't close until about 1:45 a.m. One of those cars had to move eventually. Being sore & tired, I decided to exercise a little patience and leaned back in the seat back to rest. 1:30, then 1:45. The end of the night drunks stumbled to their cars. Shouting, hooting, stumbling. Cars began emptying the bank parking lot, but neither the truck in front nor the beater behind me moved. 2:00, then 2:15. Almost all the cars we're gone from the parking lot, but not the two pinning me in.

Then, it hit me. Fool your fans. Saturday was March 31. It's now Sunday. April Fool's Day! Never had the Made Up Holiday hit me so quick or directly or anonymously. This wasn't a prank or a trick. These were two cars I didn't know driven by people who may or may not be coming back tonight. It was 2:30, and the bars were well closed.

My brother and I grudgingly agreed to walked to the late night pizza place and call a cab (we don't have cell phones). As I got out, I decided to check the doors of the beater behind us. Locked. I went to the truck, and the passenger door was UN-locked. I hopped in, fiddled with the stick which had a chrome skull on the head (it figures), and jammed it in neutral. After more reaching around, I found the parking brake release (it wasn't easy). The steering wheel was locked, but we pushed it straight backwards. The rear tires rested by the curb of the street, and I finally had room to get out. Hallelujah!

I asked my brother if we should push the car back away from the street edge. Its bumper was sticking out into the street, but he said we should just go home. Yeah, I'm exhausted from two consecutive nights of Downtown rocking & waiting over an hour at the end of it all for NO ONE to move their vehicle. Let's just go home. April Fool's, lousy truck. April Fucking Fools.

Chris Jungle has vowed to never park by the air tubes ever again.