Sometimes things go wrong. things go really really wrong. and you walk to the car after a gig to see the window smashed and your backpacks stolen. and it starts to rain “the hardest it’s rained since Hurricane Allison.” and the streets are flooded and you’ve left the venue to seek shelter from the storm under a gas station awning, trying to block out the rain with a towel that won’t stay up.
but then the police need you back at the venue to fill out the report you filed. so you ride with a busted window. park across the street throw the flashers on, run inside, wading through the calf-deep water filled streets, and seek shelter with the rest of the patrons waiting out the storm.
and you stay there for some time and watch the rain pouring down. and you feel warm. and people are nice (like they have been all night). and you’re helping move trashcans around the bar to catch the rain leaking through the roof. and you decide if this were to happen anywhere, you’re glad it happened here.
so the rain settles. you grab your stuff and get in the car. crunched in the backseat next to an amp the thieves didn’t take, cause the front seat is still littered with glass. and you drive a block. your bandmate starts throwing up into a pillow. you pull over, jump out of the car before it even stops rolling so he can get to the street. and in that moment, holding onto a roll of paper towels in the down pouring rain in the middle of Texas, after 10 days on the road and 3 days from your last shower, everything is funny. everything is ridiculous. and you all decide to laugh really really hard to keep yourselves from crying.
and that how these hilariously happy photos came to exist on one of the worst nights of tour.