The left ankle had a pin in it. Sometimes he forgot why.
The par cans that lit the stage were dented like smashup derby cars and the stage itself had a little permawarp in the corner that might break a sax player’s ankle before it was done.
Hundreds of thousands of people had come through the doors, and he or his staff had thrown at least 400 of them back out the way they came.
A band had left a setlist gaff taped to the wall-must have been for the drummer.
Ree Watson leaned over and pulled it, his fist clenching like a claw to crumple it and discard it.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Jimmy Doom's Roulette Weal to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.