DIRTY ROTTEN PUEBLO, CO

"Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" on tour....

I'm not sure how many times we've driven past/through/near Denver on this tour, but it's starting to feel/look very familiar. I've lost track of the number of times we've crossed back on ourselves. Here's a conversation I overheard during the show tonight. It pretty much sums up the state of mind one ends up in after doing so many one-nighters.

Michelle: Why the fuck is our bus call so early tomorrow morning? Where are we going?

Sarah: Casper, Wyoming.

Michelle: Have we been to Wyoming yet?

Sarah: Um.....yeah,......we left from Cheyenne, Wyoming this morning.

Michell: Excuse me, I have to go to the other side of the stage now.

Our show in Pueblo is at 5 pm. Yes, FIVE P.M. I can't tell you how wrong that is. Every fiber of my being is expressing it's outrage. A 5 pm show is even more hideous than those heinous 10 am student shows at Drayton. Five o'clock is only a curtain time if it's Christmas Eve and you're seeing The Nutcracker. Five o'clock is when you start dressing for dinner. Five o'clock is the time you pray for so that you can escape from the job you hate. Five o'clock is when you make martinis. Five o'clock is when you eat overcooked, mushy food if you live in a retirement community in Florida. Five o'clock is when any respectable Bohemian considers getting out of bed. Five o'clock is not now, nor will it ever be a proper curtain time.

Oh, and did I mention that we're in yet another venue that is too small to properly house this show? Sure we're used to it by now, but that still doesn't make it OK that half the show is in the parking lot and the ensemble has to change in a curtained off area in the basement.

The crew at this venue are unusually friendly and playful. It's a welcome change from the Luddites, mono brows and glassy-eyed ex-hippies that we often have to deal with. We are told of the theatre's haunted status and encouraged to go into the house and check out the blood stains on the curtain at the back of the audience. It seems that someone was murdered in a knife fight at the back of the house and, though the curtains go out for regular cleaning, and come back clean, the blood stains always return. Mike Donald and I go check it out, and there are indeed mysterious stains, possibly in the shape of a hand print or two.

Though it's nice to be back in the mountains, the elevation is kicking us (me) in the ass after spending so much time at sea level. All through the show I can barely catch my breath and want to just lie down. It reminds me of being in the Peruvian mountains. Thankfully, in spite of all my moaning and pessimistic predictions, the mostly elderly audience is very vocal and it's a good, solid show.

A few of us meet in the hotel lobby bar after the show. Everyone keeps asking if the whole menu is still available because we are so used to trying to get food out of a reluctant kitchen at 11 p.m. The problem with finishing a show this early is that there's way too much time to sit around drinking. Could make for an ugly departure at 7:30 a.m.