few yearz ago, super muzic producer Bob Rock wuz in town playing a reunion
show with hiz old band The Payolas. I went down to the local noody bar
for a drink, and low n' behold, Bob Rock wuz there having a beer. I
walked up to hiz table and introduced myself. I wuz never a Payolas
fan, but when he asked me if I would be at hiz show I said, "Of
course I'm goin' Bob, I love The Payolas." He mentioned that a
couple of the Skid Row guyz would be there az well becuz they were in
Vancouver recording an album with him. I thought to myself, "Cool,
this could be a good night."
I cancelled my band rehearsal for the evening, so I could have a little
time for what I call "The Pregame Warm Up" (a few drinks prior
to the waterfall of liquor). In conversation with my bassist on the
phone I said, "Tonight, I'm gonna smoke a joint with Sebastian
Bach of Skid Row." He knew that when I set out on a goal, I usually
accomplished it. He wished me luck on my mission, I hung up the phone
and proceeded to roll a gargantuan bat.
Before The Payolas show, I figured az any rock n' rollerz would do,
the Skid Row guyz would probably stop in at the local noody bar for
a drink. So I went back there to meet up with a couple of my friendz,
and quite possibly two fifths of Skid Row. Two beerz after I got there,
Sebastian Bach and Snake Sabo of Skid Row walked through the front doorz,
and it wuz like we knew each other. I greeted them az any good host
would do, and they joined me at my table. I ordered a round of drinks,
and a couple of my buddiez walked in shortly afterwardz.
I knew that Sebastian wuz a big Judas Priest fan, and being a BIG Priest
fan myself, I figured this would be the perfect conversation piece for
the two of us. We started talkin', and one thing led to another. I started
singin', Sebastian screamed the high notes, and there were doobiez on
the table in an instant. I had a moment of clarity before we sparked
'em up and said, "Hey, we can't smoke 'em in here. Let's do it
outside, and then go see Bob." We agreed it wuz the right thing
to do, grabbed the nearest stripper and went outside to blast off.
Sebastian had the joint in hiz mouth, and az I lit a match, a cab showed
up. (It's common knowledge, that when you light up a smoke, your ride
alwayz comez). Anywayz, Sebastian, the stripper, Snake and my joint
hopped in the cab and said they'd meet me at the club. I flagged down
another taxi and followed them downtown.
Both of our cabz pulled up to the front of the club, and a sea of people
were still waiting in a line up to get in. With that many people around,
the thought of fogging the bat wuz irrelevant. We came to the conclussion
that were better off smoking it in the club, so the group of us walked
in together, and everybodyz headz turned. "Pssst!! Hey, iz that
Skid Row!?!" people were asking. I just laughed and nodded "Yeah
it iz," az we walked into the venue.
I went over to the bar and ordered drinks for the three of us, but by
the time I had got back to the guyz, they had already bin bought drinks
by one of their many admirerz. I wuz trained at double-fisting when
it came to drinking, so I had no problem picking up a notch to triple
fisting. I cheerz'd them with my three bourbonz, we chuckled and began
The Payolas started their set and I continued with my three bourbonz,
no scotch, and no beer. Sebastian and the stripper were getting along
quite well, but he and I knew that we had unfinished bizness together.
He, the stripper and myself rendezvous'd backstage to smoke the joint,
and az soon az I lit a match, the god damn doorman showed up. Since
I wuz the nobody, Sebatian a celebrity, and her a stripper... I got
the boot. Once again, me and my joint were parted like the Red Sea,
and I tried to explain myself to a pissed off doorman az he pushed me
backwardz through the doorz. "But really, I'm suppozed to be here!"
I managed to convince him to not kick me out of the club, so I got to
stay for the rest of the show. I kept up with my triple fisting, and
maintained somewhat of a drunk contact with Snake Sabo all night. I
never did see Sebastian, my joint or the stripper again... they were
The next day, I learned that I half suceeded in achieving my goal of
getting Skid Row'z singer stoned. Back at the strip club having a beer,
the stripper came over to my table az soon az she recognized me from
the night before. "He wuz so beautiful..." she said, "we
went back to hiz hotel room, and just stared into each otherz eyez.
He didn't even lay a finger on me." She wuz amazed that a rock
star could be a gentleman, rather than just a sex pig. I just laughed
and imagined him telling hiz mates on the way back to Vancouver, "Man!
That dood got me so baked I couldn't even f**k her!"