After the Dublin show (I can’t remember if it was night 1 or 2 – I think it was the first) we all went back to the Bleeding Horse Saloon (this bar became a de-facto base for the Piss Army). “BudtheChud” showed up and proudly inquired, “Who wants to meet Al?” Everyone sort of stayed sedated for a bit and I got up, “Yeah, I’d like to say ‘hi’ again” and the rest of the crew (there were probably about 9 of us) got up to follow her down as well.
I let one of two go ahead of me, I think, and then it was my turn. We were filing in one-at-a-time into what looked like a converted supply closet at one end of the bar. Literally, the size of this “room” was maybe 5’ x 7’ at the most. It reminded me of a confessional or something. There were some wooden benches along the walls. BudtheChud and some other roadie chick (I just called her “Red” because of her hair) were basically acting as monitors and telling people when they could come in, leave, etc. It cracked me up that the VIP (no, we did not pay for an extra goodie bag) Meet-and-Greet area looked like where the extra Guinness crates and cleaning supplies were probably typically stored.
Anyway, I get to go in and I tell Al it was a great show and it’s good to see him again and shake his hand while his handlers stand or sit on both sides of him. He obviously doesn’t remember me and he mumbles something like, “Do you know who I am?” and I tell him “Yeah, Al. I know you. I’m a big fan, I actually spent good some time with you on the Evil Doer tour in Anaheim” hoping it would ring a bell (but not expecting anything or feeling like I was owed anything).
He turns to Bud, motions to her then asks me, “Do you know her?” I tell him that I do and that we’ve been hanging out and partying together for the last two days. He continues . . . “Well, if you wanna get to me, you gotta go through her!”
“Whatever, Dude. Take care, Al.” I thought the exchange was a bit odd and I thought it was stupid that he was telling me I had to suck up to someone (another fan) to “get to” him. Especially considering I’d already had access to him previously and I was actually on pretty good terms with Bud as well.
Anyway, I was bored with my crew anyway, and as there were some Irish businessmen getting sauced and laughing at my wardrobe for the evening, I joined in with them for a laugh. They asked what the scene was with people waiting to go in the closet. I tell them it’s an independent American rockstar but they wouldn’t know him. They ask some more questions and say, “Is he like Marilyn Manson?”
“Yeah, kind of. I guess.” One of them pulls up Ministry on his cell phone and shows me an Al picture – “This guy?” and I tell him, “Yeah, that’s him. That’s the guy in the closet.”
The guys interest level peaked by this time and he asked me, “Can I go in and meet him?” I thought it was a bit ironic having someone ask me for permission as I was just told I had to go through another fan. But I answered him back with a question . . .
“Who’s bar is this? Yours or his?”
“OURS!”
“And who’s country is this? Yours or his?”
“OURS!”
“Well, then, I reckon you can do whatever you like, can’t you?”
And with that the drunken Irish businessman stood up and marched to the closet. He swung open the door and pushed Red to the side and shouted loudly, “IS THISSS OZZIIIEEE OSSSBBOORRRRNNN!!!” They had a heck of a time getting him out of there and of course I thought the entire scene was absolutely hilarious.
I was pretty proud of myself and was retelling the tale the next day at the Saloon again. Bud retorted, “I don’t think Al was very amused by that!” to which I replied, “Yeah, he wasn’t. That’s what made it so awesome!”
Anyway, I don’t hate Al or wish him any harm (though I may write some rather acidic commentary at times). I do wish he’d come back down to Earth and stop making a bunch of crap, though (as cliche as it is to say, I think Angie is 95% to blame for most of this crap that we all hate).
Yeah, I know. I’m still an ass. HAHAHAHA!!!