Cities that are an easy drive are good for one-off shows during slower months, so I can pull in a little extra cash. A little over three hundred fans paid at ten dollars a ticket. Technically the turnout didn’t matter, because I received an $1,800 guarantee, but it was still a good turnout, considering the music industry climate. After I paid my agent 10 percent of the total gross and paid gas expenses, I walked away with $1,550. Not bad for ninety minutes of work. That’s seventeen dollars per minute, which sounds super cool until you find out I didn’t have another show for like three weeks. Since Columbia is so close to home, I decided to drive back immediately after the show. I hopped into the driver’s seat and pulled my cell phone from the front right pocket of my sweat-drenched jeans. Dead. I plugged it into the car charger, tossed it on the passenger seat, and began driving. I spent the first twenty minutes navigating myself back to the highway in silence, but once I found I-70 West, I popped in Rant in E-Minor, an old comedy album by Bill Hicks, one of my prime influences.
