Of Silicone and Cialis

The middle of last week saw the return of Wa and the boys to a place I call the Yaletown Breastaurant. Now in its second incarnation, this place seems to be very indicative of a new pneumatic esthetic that seems to be in abundance in this part of the city. Every time we've played there, women seem to be bursting out of their tops. Even those of Asian heritage often are unnaturally curvaceous. For sure, in my next life, I'm coming back as a cosmetic surgeon and I'm setting up practice right at the corner of Davie and Mainland. The flip side of this phenomenon is that the men upon whose arms these women are found are often a decade older, usually more.

At our Valentines day gig at this establishment, our pianist, one Mr. Cross Pitter, was delighted to find a Cialis package in the men's washroom. He was devastated to find it empty, but we were thankful as had there been something in the box, it may have resulted in the keyboard being precariously tilted for the remainder of the gig. We amused ourselve to imagine the scene that would have occurred had we bothered to announce over the PA, "Would the ower of a lost box of Cialis come up to the stage?" and see all these guys checking their pockets. Dudes saying to themselves, "Whew, not me, I'm a Viagra man."

As we were taking down our gear at the end of that gig, Wa was accosted by a woman who wanted us have her friend sit in with us. Evidently he had a lounge gig or something in Europe and was certainly wealthy, and perhaps not too used to being told no. His friend certainly wasn't taking no for answer. She wanted to pay us to set up again and seemed oblivious to the fact that we were scurrying like rats to get packed up and the hell out of there. She just continued to use her enormous Teutonic chest to push her point home. Wa, ever the diplomat, was protesting that we couldn't do him justice without a proper arrangement of Just a Gigolo (seriously) in his key. At which point this gal said, "Come on, I used to live in Los Angeles. I know how they do it. Just count 1, 2, 3, 4 and go." We went.

The Breastauant really liked our group and had offered Wa a steady weekly gig, which we were happy to take. Unfortunately, and very typically, they hadn't really thought this thing through. They wanted to go with live music three nights a week, but never bothered to properly promote it (no advertising whatsoever) or to give it any time to build up an reputation as a live music venue. As a band, we do promote our gigs to our e-mail lists, but we cannot be counted upon to fill the place immediately. We certainly do fill places like Seb's every time, but it takes a while to build an audience.

Less than a month in, the Breastaurant decided to can the music. I wasn't surprised, but I was disappointed nonetheless. I really saw this place as great source material for this blog, along the lines of The Hotel Pianist. Oh well, it'll give us more time (but less money) to focus on our recording project.