What I will remember most about Waterloo is that I couldn’t find a public washroom that was open on a Sunday night downtown. Normally I’d just go at the venue like a normal person, but we were playing in a small community hall that (seriously) had no washroom. It wasn’t exactly a legal venue I don’t think. But it sure was pretty.
The funny thing is – and there were a lot of funny things about Waterloo – is that the show had been moved to this place at the last minute, from another illegal venue in someone’s house.
Anyway. Walking around in a strange city with a growing sense of urgency makes for a good story after the fact, but it was highly unpleasant in the moment. In desperation I even searched the van for an empty bottle, but to no avail. I hesitate to tell you where I gained relief…suffice to say I would not recommend crouching behind a dumpster in an underground parking lot. Definitely one of those ‘what am I doing with my life?’ moments.
Luckily, the show was wonderful. It was packed, we played well, and afterward we ended up crashing at the promoter’s house. Which was a tall, multi-suite heritage house where a collection of young guys into magic and pirate costumes lived. We ended up sitting around with our gracious hosts drinking beer, smoking weed, watching magic tricks, trying on pirate costumes
and passing around a ukelele.
A private Parlour Steps uke concert is a rare event and we were well received.
Another ‘what am I doing with my life?’ moment, but in an awestruck sort of way.