Wrath of Lamb November 05/09

So, I went down to Seattle on Tuesday to see Steve Martin perform a concert of bluegrass and banjo music. I went with my friend, who has interviewed Steve in the past, and has developed an email friendship with him. The plan was to maybe meet the man before or after the show. The trip was smooth, no hassles at the border. We got down there with a few hours to spare, so we checked into our hotel room and went out for some food and drinks. I was drinking beer, and my friend was having a selection of martinis and cocktails. A cosmopolitan, something called a pineapple lemon drop, etc.

We finally got to the concert hall, and this place was fancy dancy. A huge elaborate concert hall, the home of the Seattle symphony. Everyone was in expensive suits, elegant dresses, fur coats, and everyone was older than we were. My friend commented that they weren't so much Steve Martin fans, as 'patrons of the arts'. We took our seats in the sixth row, right in the centre. Awesome. Steve came on and after about three songs I noticed my buddy wasn't looking too well.

Then I heard a splashing sound.

He was projectile vomiting all over the floor. It was horrible. The people beside him got up and left in disgust, and then he got up and left, covered head to toe in vomit. The whole place began to smell like a sour pineapple lemon drop. I didn't know what to do. I sat there for a few minutes, then got up and went looking for him. I found him outside hailing a cab. I went back in and sat at a different seat and tried to enjoy the show.

We never got to meet Steve Martin.