I wake up on top of some couch cushions I’d laid out, and hear the faint sound of the ocean. After a week of sleeping on the floor of our RV, living out of Wal Marts, we’ve somehow ended up at the beach house of one of the most extravagant mansions I’ve ever seen. Everyone’s still asleep, so I look around outside and find a patch of grass with a nice chair where I take a seat, looking out into the ocean, wondering if I’d actually died, or ended up in some Lost-type scenario. Considering I’ve slept in my clothes and haven’t showered in days, I can only assume that the owners are gone, lest I be immediately thrown off the premises. When a few others get up, we walk down to the private beach, and I think back to my words to Riley days earlier, “I will never see this ever again.”
We take care of some things at the house, which is somehow empty aside from us, and take a scenic route through the hills to our final show, at the UCB LA in Hollywood. I’m calmly trying to take everything in. We get to the theater, load in what we can, and everyone else takes off to do interviews. The band sticks around to sound check, except we’re using almost entirely borrowed gear, none of which has shown up yet.
Aside from getting something to eat around the corner, I don’t know of anything else to do besides wait around inside, while another show is rehearsing (featuring a former Saturday Night Live cast member, whom I’ve had a huge crush on). Thinking I can at least catch up with friends back home, I walk outside to call some people only to discover my phone’s been shut off. I step back inside, to sit nervously and wait.
Most of our gear doesn’t show up until minutes before show time. I can’t help but feel anxious, with the past few months having led up to tonight. Fortunately everything shows up, and we set up just in time.
The show is great. It’s our tightest show ever, and the crowd loves it. It’s stressful getting everything loaded out, especially with so many people backstage (for both our show, and in general), and for a few minutes I assume more of my stuff is gone. But everything’s fine, I change back to normal clothes and walk outside, getting the chance to see a bunch of friends, and meeting some new ones as well, who tell me they had a great time watching. I’m happy to hear that.
A weight is lifted off my shoulders, and tonight I’m a star in Hollywood. I drop my stuff off nearby, head over to the after party at a bar, and walk in with more confidence than I’ve ever had in my life.
Next up: The RV is gone, but Joe’s tour keeps on.