Driving to a sphincter of a town in Quebec (that the agent assured us was a classy place) from Toronto.

Arrive at this little schtettle (small town/village) called Buckingham. Hotel was called the Buckingham Palace. (no shit!) Looked like it was built in the 30s.
Reaked of stale beer, cigarettes and unrine. *Peelers performed before and after all of our sets.
Rooms had no bathrooms (just communal ones in the hall) and the fire escape consisted of a long rope near the window. No light fixtures in the rooms. Just a bare bulb dangling from the ceiling. No TV. No radio. Get 20 of the local women together and you have one full set of teeth.
One hour into the first night of playing there, I'm thinking why didn't I listen to my mother and become a doctor or a lawyer? And so the dues paying process began.


*strippers