“Go ahead, I don’t work here.” I’ve repeated this phrase so many times to fellow concert goers and artists I lost count years ago. It must be the fact that I look like a mix of bouncer and cigar store Indian (and yes I do my own hair, don’t you?) that gets people’s attention.
Meet me at the stage, I’ll be the guy reaching for the setlist.
I answer to all sorts of names, but it’s all me.
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