The day before a gig in Duluth, I just got paid, and at the time I just took my check and cashed it so I would be sure not to spend beyond my means. My check from that two-week period was a whopping $500 (thanks, Bachman's), so I did what any newly rich guy in a band would do: I splurged and stopped at the McDonald's drive-thru on the way home.
Now, if you're a guy, I know you'll agree that it sucks when you have to pull out your wallet while sitting down in the car. And it sucks just as much, if not more, to put it back in your pocket. Am I right here?
So I just set my wallet on the passanger chair in my truck and drove home with a couple of cheeseburgers in my hand. When I got home, I took a little nap and then got ready to go out for the night.
As I was getting ready, I noticed that I had no wallet. "To the truck!" I exclaimed, and went down to find my money.
But as you may have guessed, it wasn't there. Yes, I didn't lock my truck, and left my wallet sitting near an open window on the corner of 29th and Newton Ave. north. Yes, that was dumb. But I got over it. In fact, I had $50 in the bank for just such an emergency. It would have to last me two weeks. No problem.
The next day I picked up Aaron and this time when I pulled up to my place (Casey's) I made sure to lock both doors and close the windows tightly. I got smart, in other words.
But after we loaded my truck full of equipment, I went to open the door and had a sad realization. There were my keys, hanging from the ignition -- so close, and yet so very far away.
No one we knew who could open locks was home. And we just couldn't get into the truck. The lock guy charged me $40 and took an hour to show. But I still made it to Duluth in plenty of time, dead broke.
