"Hotel California!"

28 Dollar Friday Night

I am home after having made 28 bucks busking, arriving out there, as I did, at almost midnight, and playing for what amounted to about 2 hours.

At one point a small group of Latinos arrived and I thought I recognized one of them as a guy who has stopped by my spot probably 3 times in the past 5 years, and who I see around the Quarter in other places, and who usually tries to get me to play “Hotel California,” and then walks off without tipping.

But, it wasn’t him, and I wonder if the 20 dollar tip he left might have been larger had I not eyed him suspiciously when he walked up with a “arent’ you the guy who is usually drunk and asks me to play Hotel California and then doesn’t tip?” look on my face.

This guy’s resemblance to him was quite remarkable, right down to his having the same “Buddy Holly” eyeglasses on his face and wearing a baseball cap.

And, after he asked: “Can you play Hotel California?” my reaction was:

“I’ve played it for you before...” ...you know I know how to play it...

But, either it wasn’t the same guy, or the guy was in the process of skeezing the other two guys he was with and maybe he had told them that he was new in town, as part of the skeeze, and what I said contradicted it.

But, he quickly produced a 20 dollar bill and then requested the Eagles song again, which I did. I started to wonder if my singing voice has deteriorated since I was 27 years old, because I was struggling with the high notes which I can remember hitting back in 1989...

I had been down to 43 cents and had played for probably the first 45 minutes without making anything.

When the first dollar went into the basket, it was Harold’s food.

Finally enough money came in so I could get nicotine cartridges and a Bang energy drink.

I determined that, as bad as it is to be addicted to nicotine, it is better than being so and not having any.

My addictions are keeping me from having brand new harmonicas, if I want to look at it that way. Which is a shame, seeing as they are where the money comes from...

Well, at least I don’t have to scale down the side of a cliff on a rope ladder and cut a bee hive off the face of it while being stung in the face...