For the uninitiated, open mic’s have a signup sheet that’s numbered with the slots that are available for the evening. Most, if not all, open mic’s put this list out an hour before the show starts. This known as ‘dropping the list’.
With every open mic I’ve been to other than this one, the list drop is fairly benign. Show up at the time the list drops or even a little later and there it is, sitting out waiting for signups. Easy peazy, lemon squeezy.
Except, that is, for the Funky Buddha. It’s currently 6:30pm and I just arrived to claim my spot in the front, waiting for the list to drop at 8pm. That’s right, I’m here 90 minutes early. The reason? It’s because by 7, they’ll be a dozen people here and by 7:15, that’ number will swell three times that.
That wouldn’t be a big deal if the signup was, at the very least, somewhat organized. It’s not. Not even close. By 7:45, there’s a dense crowd gathered around the table where the list will drop. By 7:55, it’s like a feeding frenzy. And when that list hits the table, it’s a God-damn free-for-all. There’s no line, there’s no courtesy, there’re no prisoners. It’s a bum rush to get your pen-filled hand near the paper so you can (hopefully) get the slot you want… or at least close to it.
So, where does that leave me? Sitting out in front of an empty venue writing a blog post and girding my loins for the impending battle.
At least the weather’s nice.