I will always have fond memories of Mohawk Place because its where I almost saw my first show. I actually saw my first show somewhere
else, but this is where I was going to see my first show before I was kicked
out. Before you think I got kicked out for a cool reason like partying too hard or
anything of the kind, I'm going to let you know it was for a much stupider reason.
This happened back in 2008, when I just recently turned 18. This was my first chance to see a show really since most are 18 and up.
The band I was going to see was original grunge rockers, Mudhoney. I went with my two
older brothers who were older than 21. At the door, they got the wrist band to
let others know this and I got the X's on my hand to let everyone know I was
having a sober night while at the show.
Inside Mohawk Place, I reveled in the atmosphere of being at
a show. Stickers and posters all over the walls. Graffiti in the bathrooms. Fans
in band T-shirts and tattoos. I got the urge to visit the swag table and buy an
overpriced T-shirt. I proudly put it on right in front of the table. I stood
amongst the crowd, excited for my first show but felt that somehow I wasn’t
quite getting the full experience yet. My brother returned and handed my other
older brother a beer. That’s the piece of experience still missing. The beer.
That was one aspect I couldn’t attain though because I was underage and had the
X’s on my hand to prove it. But if I got rid of the X’s…
Using spit and my thumbs, I rubbed the top layer of skin
off the back of my hand until the X’s were gone and in one of my least thought out plans, not even considering
that I still didn’t have an orange band around my wrist, I went to the bartender and
asked for a Blue Light. The bartender looked immediately at my hand and asked
where my wrist band was. I mumbled something, I dont even remember what, because I had no good excuse and
he was not pleased. He called someone over from the door and after putting the
X’s back on my hand, warned me to not try that type of crap again.
Defeated, I returned to my brothers who were having a good laugh
at me. Feeling bad though, one of them went to the bar and got me a beer.
Finally I was getting the full show experience. The crowd was filling in and it
was nearing show time. The opening band would be coming on soon. I took a
couple sips of my cold frothy beer and in no time at all the guy from the door
came over, grabbed my beer and led me outside telling the person taking tickets
to not let me in.
I already pushed my luck so rather than try some scheme
involving Groucho Marx mustache glasses so I could get back in, I went home
from my first show, still wearing the band T-shirt of a band that I would not be seeing now, without even hearing a single guitar string strummed. Not
even by a roadie doing checks. But I have been back to Mohawk Place since that incident and enjoyed a few shows there without being kicked out.
i enjoyed this. -mm