This guy came up to me while I was playing and asked how much longer I would play. I said about an hour. Later, and this is where the video starts, I get interrupted during my song by this woman who asks me how long I'm going to play. I thought it was a pedestrian who was upset about the volume. I gave my usual flippant answer: "Oh, maybe another five hours." Turns out this woman is the wife of the guy I talked to earlier. She says, "We are going to start playing now, because you played long enough." Instead of him just being courteous and saying "Hey, I'm back now", when I would have let him take over, he leaves Mrs.Hitler to do the dirty work, and they proceed to set up and play while I'm still playing!
He sets up and starts playing sax and backing tracks with a huge amp. I thought, "Excellent. I can test my Traynor amp now . It goes to 11. Dueling buskers!"
I continued for another 20 minutes, enjoying the confused expressions of apathetic passerby who were now hearing two different songs in different keys, 25 feet apart. They probably thought it was jazz.
I then unplugged my guitar, walked over, and asked her, "Have you no manners at all?" What a piece of work she was. Screaming in my face, calling me a bitch, waving a piece of paper around, "The law says one hour!!! Fuck you!"
First of all, that's only a guideline, that no one follows. Even the cops would never enforce this. It's all based on the courtesy system.
It was absolutely hilarious as she was giving me the finger two inches in front of my face, and I'm listening to him play Kenny G while trying call the cops. I suggested she seek psychiatric help.
Another classic entry for my busking book, due to be published in 2020
You can't buy experiences like this. It's what I love about street playing. You never know what's going to happen. I expect aggression from panhandlers, drug addicts, annoyed pedestrians, but another busker? That's something I have not seen in five of years of being on the street.
They were obviously visiting from Italy, on the run from the mafia, probably not making any money, and getting frustrated. She totally reminded me of Colonel Klebb, the ugly old Russian spy in the Bond movie, 'From Russia with love'. This was from Italy with love. I'm quite sure she had knives in her shoes as well. The best part was how she kept filming the guy and then clapping and cheering when he finished a song. No one else did. Nice artificial support system.
I think he made a deal with the devil at the crossroads like Robert Johnson, trying find that sweet street fame, and his penance was having this gypsy witch from 'Drag me to hell' as his groupie. Seriously, this spot ain't exactly an oasis for cash. It's filled with homeless, aggressive locals, apathetic locals, panhandlers, drug addicts, and the working poor trying to catch the B line. Why would anyone put up such a deranged fight for the spot?
I actually told him, "This is your wife? I feel sorry for you. Here's a couple bucks. Buy a new one."
I talked to another busker after I was packing up and he also said they were nasty towards him when he was playing gastown a few blocks away. We spotted a couple cops walking by and reported them as being extremely aggressive. I also talked to a few pedestrians who said they did not support 'non local' people like them and they sensed there was something wrong with them. Lol!
This spot is attracting all the gems. First, it’s the Jesus freak driving in from Washington to sing about god, now it’s refugees from Italy. I’m not one for praying, but Lord, give me strength.
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