Carribean Sunset

The Spot Where Eustus Plays Sometimes
Friday night, I went to play at a spot that Nick, the flute player had told me was legal.
The spot is frequented by Eustus, the steel drum player. He plays loud and ambiguous music on the steel drum, which is an instrument which conjures up a vague sense of "the carribean," in the average listener, and which, accompanied by the fact that Eustus weighs 300 pounds and is a mix of two exotic races, neither 'carribean," by the way; he makes good money.
People seem to think that they are being treated to authentic exotic music, played on a funny steel thing, by the "real deal, " a guy who braved the ocean between here and, well, the Carribean, with only a steel drum and a steel resolve to make it in this strange land of funny white people; that's worth a couple of bucks.
He wasn't there on Friday, (maybe he was in the Carribean) I sat and played and my own form of exotica earned me a good chunk of cash.

People who come out of pubs are generally good tippers; people who come out of
pubs that sell pints of beer for $5.75 are generally better tippers.

I didn't hear Eustus playing anywhere, which was curious. I was happy with my 40 bucks or so. The next night, he informed me that he had been "sick" the prior eve.
Eustus comes back the next night and sets up 50 feet from me, after walking by and looking in my case (which I had artificially inflated, based upon my assesment that people who patronized the A1 Aleworks are (generally) the type that would expect the street musician out front of the establishment, which they choose to frequent because of the "high quality" of it, to be of the highest quality herself, and would be comforted by the sight of a case full of one's, he set up 50 feet from me and started playing loud, ambuguous music which was vaguely "Carribean-esque."

Like the proverbial shark smelling blood in the water, (the blood being green and in my case in this instance,) he went at it as if in a frenzy.
"He ain't Heavy, He's My Brother"

I tuned my guitar to his exotic steel drum and began to sing "I was here first; that's just disrespectful..." to a simple blues vamp. He couldn't hear me because of the exotic steel drum in his face, but the patrons of the A1 Aleworks, whom had stepped out did. I improvised lyrics about exotic steel drums, and the rudeness of those who set up 50 feet from another and play them, and made better tips for chastising him musically than he did playing the exotic steel drum, his 300 pounds notwithstanding! Tonight, I will circulate "He ain't Heavy; He's My Brother," the Hollies classic, in tune with his drum and see who get's the humor...