I once had the experience of being paid NOT to play. Not something to be especially proud of, but an interesting story nevertheless.

One of my friends and classmates had been frontman for a very prominent local rock band, but the rest of the group had graduated and moved on. The proprietor of one local bar had booked Geoff's band for St. Patrick's Day each of the past couple of years, and at the last miniute (i.e., March 16, 1970) offered him the gig.

I was recruited to borrow and play an electric bass, a drummer and another guitar player were found, and we holed up in someone's dark and dirty basement to work up a few tunes overnight (with the help of some illegal stimulants).

Hours went by with no inspiration, until at about 3:30 am someone had the good sense to strike up "Johnny B. Goode." We immediately ran through the entire Chuck Berry songbook, and then though one easy classic three-chord rock song after another, until we had more than enough material to get through the following evening.

Went to the gig, in the back room of a restarant/bar, and NO ONE (except for our immediate circle of guest-list friends) was there! The owner had not advertised a St. Patrick's Night rock 'n' roll party, so of course none of the young crowd who had attended in past years knew to show up.

He did have a room full of middle-aged restaurant patrons, however, and they began to complain about the "noise" coming from the back room. So we gladly accepted our (substantial) pay, and went home to sleep it off.