Wow, what an adventure Saint John was! And in so many ways!
First, we drove there from Riviere Du Loup through some pretty intense winter storms that ended up delaying some other bands that were traveling the same route mere hours later. We then checked into the Hillside Motel. We found it on the net, and the clincher was that it was advertised as having been ‘renovated in 1983’. With Shannon’s love of all things vintage, we figured this would be a great (and cheap) place to crash.
We had heard about a house show that Ace Kinkaid was playing, but we decided to get some food first. Boston Pizza was what we were craving, so we headed there. This is where things start to get a little intense: at dinner, Shannon saw a mouse darting under one of the tables, which, in itself, is nothing really remarkable. Restaurants, grocery stores, any places with food always have mice problems, and this BP location was on the edge of a marsh so it made sense. Either way, we alerted the staff, and even got a free dessert. This meal will come into play later.
We left and went to the house show, which was awesome! Ace Kinkaid were going absolutely berserk, rubbing their guitars up against drum cymbals, and most of the entire audience had tambourines or percussive instruments of sorts.
We left shortly after, as we felt that the neighbourhood was sketchy and would rather head back to the hotel. We ate our free dessert and fell asleep. No big deal, correct? The second day would hold the next part of the adventure…
As soon as I woke up, I knew something was wrong. Shannon and I went to Cora’s for breakfast, where I could hardly even touch food. We even walked around downtown with Ace Kinkaid and most of the guys from We, The Undersigned, visiting the local indoor market for eats, while I kept ducking around to the bathroom to dry-heave.
We loaded into the venue for the show that afternoon, but I spent several hours shivering in the car, wrapped in a sleeping bag with a fever as part of food poisoning. The guys in Ace Kinkaid hooked me up with some gravol and ibuprofen, which helped a little bit, but when the show began, that’s when it got really rough. I played that night, at my very weakest (struggling to stand at times), and as soon as I finished my set, I rushed off to the bathroom, where I dry-heaved in the stall for about 15 minutes. I was just glad that I didn’t have to go through the embarrassment of explaining that I was sick and had not ‘been drinking’. I then curled up on a bench and fell asleep throughout the rest of the performances after downing a whole bottle of Gatorade (thanks to Shannon!). I shivered my way through the rest of the night but felt much better the next morning. I also spent about half an hour on the phone with Boston Pizza, and as I would find out later, my troubles would be worth a $25 gift card (while the phone costs were $22.50).