Stung


Aww man. It’s October. It’s so late in the year, that the clocks just went back. So why is it that a wasp (or bee, not sure, I flattened it before I got a good look) manages to find it’s way into the arm of my dressing gown and sting me on the arm? It looked pretty nasty for a while, got kind of sore, but has since calmed down a bit.

Shortly after, I am offered a last minute solo gig. To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure I would be able to play the guitar all night – the sting happened to be right where I tend to rest my arm on the guitar. But I am not one to let personal injury get in the way of entertaining the public (plus I really like money), so the show must go on.

Observations from tonight’s show:

  • It makes you feel very, very old when ex-pupils, who were at school the last time you saw them, appear in the pub and are now grown-ups. Still, it is pleasing to note that the couple of times this happened they are both still playing guitar.
  • Although I appreciate the drunk guy really wanted to buy me a drink, I watched as my requested pineapple juice was served and he looked at it, confused, trying to remember what he had ordered. Then he started to drink it. Then he remembered it was for me and handed it over. Thanks dude, but no thanks.
  • Same guy also inspired this tweet:

    He really did do it. I thought that only happened in episodes of The Office. At least the guy in the wheelchair seemed pretty drunk himself, so maybe he didn’t care.

  • The combination of a sting in your arm and three hours of guitar playing, gives you incredibly painful and almost immovable cramp while you try to drive home. Ouch.

So, the moral of the story is to try and not to be stung by wasps in the future. At least, not before a gig.

Posted by Robbie on October 27, 2013