A Little Bit Of Chicken Fried

Sometimes, I think my life should be a movie.

But seriously.

I doubt it would be a good one, but it would most definitely be entertaining.


Last night I worked a six hour show shift at the Coffeehouse. I wasn't originally signed up to work the show, but the girl working the counter needed a sub & I agreed to fill in. Since it was so last minute, I didn't have the slightest clue who was performing. We have quite an array of genres at the Coffeehouse---a lot of indie musicians, with some occasional rock, techno, and screamo thrown in. Once, there was even a guy who did nothing except beat the microphone against his chest a few times and then stand in silence for thirty minutes. I'm not kidding.

Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised when I showed up to the C-house last night and heard some good ol' southern twang coming through the speakers during sound checks. I've worked a LOT of shows during my three years at the Coffeehouse, and I can't recall ever having any country-esque concerts. Finally!

The typical hipster scene was replaced by a bunch of country-lovin', God-fearin', southern folks with accents thicker than great-grandma's mashed potatoes (I'm working on embracing the southern girl within me... did it work?) I made lattes and mochas all night long for adults with manners calling me "sweetheart" and "honey." Obviously, the majority of the C-house staff aren't from around here and found the whole thing to be absolutely hysterical. They went around talking in fake southern accents all night. I was really tempted to tell one of them, "Sugar, you're from Virginia. These are your people too." But I decided against it.


I thought the highlight of my night was going to be the opening song with its "my baby's got the biggest hair in town" lyrics. I mean, really, how do you top that?

Oh, but the night just got better. About two hours into the concert (every Coffeehouse staff member sans me was shooting each other the most evil looks at this point), the band started throwing something from the stage into the audience. I've been to many concerts where they throw beach balls from the stage & they just float around in the audience. But these projectiles were most certainly NOT beach balls.

They were throwing fried chicken.

Fried chicken. Take a moment and wrap your head around this. There were chunks of fried chicken being thrown into the audience.

I suppose I can check that one off the bucket list now... attend concert where band throws fried chicken from the stage. Yep. Been there, done that.

After the show, the C-house guys who ran sound came behind the counter and showed me a copy of the rider the band had sent, which basically outlines all of the terms & demands for the concert. Right there, in the middle of it all, it stated: "no chicken = no show."


No chicken = no show.

Way to make me proud, dear South.


And, if all of that wasn't enough, I made twice as much in tips as my previous record. God bless their Southern little hearts.