Hey guys,
I'm pretty bored, so I thought I would share probably one of the scariest and most awkward moments in my, well not only magic career, but my whole life. I want to say that NOTHING in this story is fictional, and by the end of it you should think twice about going to your next gig. It goes something like this-
It was one of my first gigs. I was a pretty young kid, but I think I was pretty skilled at the time. Anyways, I heard they were having this fundraiser thing for a hospital down town. Thing was, it wasn't really a hospital. It was this open clinic type of thing, where people who didn't have health insurence stayed untill they could afford a regular hosptial. Well they started getting crowded, considering it was a bad part of the city, so they set up this big bake-sale type of thing to get some money so they could get the people out of there. So one day my dad was in the city, and he saw a flyer for it, and knowing I was looking for a place to perform, brought home the flyer and convinced me to do it. So I get there on a Saturday, and I knew it was going to be a bad day. There was NOBODY there. And the space where they were holding the event, was microscopic. It wasn't even space, it was just in the front of the clinic. So I'm there with my deck and I'm doing some tricks, for the only people that were there, the receptionist and a couple patients, when out of nowhere I hear the doors swing open, and lots of screaming. I turn around, and see a blood covered man screaming and tripping all over the place. I immediatly threw up all over the ground, not at the fact that he was all shot-up, but at the fact that I was freakin scared. So he's bleeding and screaming all over the floor, while I'm hurling all over my feet. From what I heard him saying, he'd been shot in a drive-by a couple blocks away. I see him leave the perimeter of the door, and I start hauling ass. You've never ran faster when theres a bleeding gangster behind you, believe me. So I get a couple blocks down, when I realized that what I did was a little disrespectful, you know puking and running, so I walk back, only to find about a dozen cop cars scattered arond the front of the clinic. I made a b-line to a phone booth, to call my dad to come pick me up, because he couldnt stay for the whole thing, and he was supposed to come at the near end. He picks me up, and we go home.
Well, thats pretty much it. I can tell you that I'm never going to a gig in that part of town ever again.
I'm pretty bored, so I thought I would share probably one of the scariest and most awkward moments in my, well not only magic career, but my whole life. I want to say that NOTHING in this story is fictional, and by the end of it you should think twice about going to your next gig. It goes something like this-
It was one of my first gigs. I was a pretty young kid, but I think I was pretty skilled at the time. Anyways, I heard they were having this fundraiser thing for a hospital down town. Thing was, it wasn't really a hospital. It was this open clinic type of thing, where people who didn't have health insurence stayed untill they could afford a regular hosptial. Well they started getting crowded, considering it was a bad part of the city, so they set up this big bake-sale type of thing to get some money so they could get the people out of there. So one day my dad was in the city, and he saw a flyer for it, and knowing I was looking for a place to perform, brought home the flyer and convinced me to do it. So I get there on a Saturday, and I knew it was going to be a bad day. There was NOBODY there. And the space where they were holding the event, was microscopic. It wasn't even space, it was just in the front of the clinic. So I'm there with my deck and I'm doing some tricks, for the only people that were there, the receptionist and a couple patients, when out of nowhere I hear the doors swing open, and lots of screaming. I turn around, and see a blood covered man screaming and tripping all over the place. I immediatly threw up all over the ground, not at the fact that he was all shot-up, but at the fact that I was freakin scared. So he's bleeding and screaming all over the floor, while I'm hurling all over my feet. From what I heard him saying, he'd been shot in a drive-by a couple blocks away. I see him leave the perimeter of the door, and I start hauling ass. You've never ran faster when theres a bleeding gangster behind you, believe me. So I get a couple blocks down, when I realized that what I did was a little disrespectful, you know puking and running, so I walk back, only to find about a dozen cop cars scattered arond the front of the clinic. I made a b-line to a phone booth, to call my dad to come pick me up, because he couldnt stay for the whole thing, and he was supposed to come at the near end. He picks me up, and we go home.
Well, thats pretty much it. I can tell you that I'm never going to a gig in that part of town ever again.
