After Party
Whilst on tour with our hit band, Scruples, Marvin generally frowns upon after parties. He says that after parties detract from what Scruples is all about: the music, and we must be at our peak at all times. Being the more dominant personality, and the main songwriter of the band, Marvin made me swear that I would never organise an after party without his permission.
I was keeping to my word for quite a while. That was, until we played Kraków in 2004. As we played the gig that night, I couldn’t help but notice three Polish beauties in the front row. Usually, the women would congregate in front of Marvin, but these were standing right in front of me, screaming, with their arms outstretched. When we walked off stage to prepare for our encore, I pulled aside Desmond, our road manager, and told him to send the women to my hotel room after the gig. “And keep it quiet,” I whispered. “If Marvin finds out he’ll hit the roof.”
At the hotel room, the women and I were having quite a merry time. I was telling them stories about life on tour, and to my amazement, they were hanging on my every word and laughing at all of my jokes. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if I were to score a good night kiss from one of them later on. I was just pouring our fifth round of cocktails when there was a knock at the door. Instinctively, I knew that it was Marvin. “Quick! Hide!” I hissed and bustled the women into the broom closet. I took a moment to compose myself then opened the hotel room door.
“I’m glad you’re still up,” said Marvin, walking straight into the room. “I want to show you a song I just wrote. It’s -” he stopped as he scanned his eyes across the room and saw the four cocktail glasses.
“Just a minute, what the hell is this?” he demanded, grabbing me by the collar. I could see his face getting red and veins started to bulge out of his neck and forehead. “Are you partying?” I didn’t answer. “I said, are you partying?” shouted Marvin, and he shook me violently. My eyes grew wide, and my face went white. Still in his grasp, I leaned forward and vomited all over his chest.
“Oh, you little bastard!” shouted Marvin and he pushed me to the floor. Looking down at me with disdain, he seized me by the hair. “That’s it pal, I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t forget!” I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the beating of my life.
As Marvin raised his fist, the Polish women tumbled out of the broom closet, giggling hysterically. Marvin stopped. He looked at the women, then looked down out me, and a smile broke out across his face. Releasing me from his grip, he walked over and introduced himself to the women. While they were chatting, I took the opportunity to mix everyone a round of Manhattans and then the party really took off. Marvin pulled off his vomit-stained shirt, jumped onto the table and soared into a fabulous rendition of God Save The Queen. We had the time of our lives that night, which is why Kraków will always hold a special place in my heart.
