Hartwood Stories, episode 1. “The Reluctant Spoon”
The names in this story have been changed to protect the guilty…
It was many years ago and Hartwood was playing at a strip-club-turned-music venue called “Cameltoe” or “The Cameltoe” – it really doesn’t matter because it’s changed names at least once since then and may not even exist anymore.
We were playing a Friday night gig with a Led Zeppelin tribute band and it was our first (and last) time in Spanaway at this sketchy bar with the long, high-top runway tables still intact – complete with stripper poles in place. There were also swings in alcoves along the wall that we assumed used to display some of the more adventurous girls.
No, not much was done to the inside before they decided to start pouring drinks and bringing in bands. WA state, as most of you know, does not allow alcohol in rooms where people take their clothes off for money and it’s hard to know exactly what kind of talent this place was able to recruit from the area, but it obviously made more sense to try to sell beer and cocktails to some of the large military population in the area.
So, in we go to talk to the manager, promoter or anyone who could tell us where to load our gear in and what time we were expected onstage, etc. This is also the time of the evening when we wait breathlessly for what riches lay in store for us. We are used to the “two drink tickets” standard (good for a domestic draft or a well drink, thank you very much), so we were a little surprised when we were informed we would be getting a pitcher of beer! Well, that sounds fine…a pitcher for each of the 6 of us – that should make the night more palatable…let’s start with one or two and we’ll get our next ones when the drummer arrives (It should be noted that the drummer was not there yet and would actually be calling soon to say his vehicle broke down on I-5 and he was stuck – but that’s another story).
“No”, the bartender – who looked like he hadn’t slept in 3 days – said…”You get one pitcher for THE BAND”! Now, it took a second for it to sink in…surely, he couldn’t be serious. There were (as I mentioned) 6 band members, after all, and a pitcher is only 64 oz. You do the math.
“You’re kidding”, I said. “Nope”, he said.
After we quickly finished our complimentary beer (that didn’t take long), we settled in to wait our turn on the stage.
After our fiddle player, Cousin Dick, went to rescue Rufus from the road, we finally were all in one place and our time was coming up.
As far as I remember, we had a good set. What we all DO remember, though, was the enthusiastic fan that would have given even Sir Mix-A-Lot pause…she had junk in her trunk that would make the biggest fan of big booties stop and do a double-take! This was no ordinary Honky-Tonk Ba-donk-a-donk! She knew how to move it and she had her sights set on our pedal steel guitar player! Cleetus would alternate between sitting at the pedal steel and standing up with a regular guitar and when he was standing, she was backin’ it up in his direction! She’d back it up and he’d back away…back it up, back away and those moves gave birth to “The Trailer Hitch/ Reluctant Spoon”! The newest dance craze to hit Pierce County, the his and hers moves of the THRS will be remembered long after the last of the glitter is vacuumed up from the corners of the floor or the scent of Axe body spray fades into the walls.
To top it off, we were told that someone had to stay until the very end of the night for us to get paid and to add insult to an already insulting night, when the establishment caught some of our fans smoking – get this – marijuana – in the parking lot, they announced not only were we 86’ed from the place, but we would also not be getting paid!
After a few choice words and some thinly veiled threats of arson from our bass player, Henry Lee, the scene was soon back in control, but by that time, we knew this would be our one and only visit to The Cameltoe.
We didn’t come away with warm, fuzzy feelings about Spanaway that night, but we did come away with The Trailer Hitch and The Reluctant Spoon – and that’s not nothin’!