Freefall: don't shoot the pianist

Saturday night's gig down in Bristol was brilliant as usual, leaving aside the fact that I got accosted in the gent's at half time by a drunken old man who, I'm guessing, had mistaken me for somebody else.

The thing about playing in a band; you can often play some quite interesting venues in some quite thematic parts of town where, on a Saturday night, there can sometimes, and very rarely, be a bit of rough and tumble. But, whilst I hesitate to tempt fate with never, it hardly ever, ever targets the band. There's a kind of unspoken consensus amongst even the most sodden of drunks and inebriate and intemperate bar flies that you just don't shoot the pianist.

That said, Saturday's venue wasn't one of these places. It's one of my favourite Bristolian haunts. The sort of place I'd take my gran to. Or would, if she hadn't passed away some twenty odd years ago. It's the sort of place where you walk in to be greeted by a warm smile and friendly welcome that makes you immediately feel you've found a home from home.

Anyway, I say he was old; by that I mean he was clearly older than me, but these days it's hard to tell. He was certainly bigger than me which always puts an edge on things, but being obviously drunk and, I would guess, in his 60's, I figured that didn't count for too much.

After asking if I knew some woman (I initially assumed he was asking if I knew a song, but it was hard to tell as his words were quite slurred) and disbelieving me when I said sorry but no, he said yes you do and shoved me against the wall, which was awkward as I had my hands full at the time. 

It was such a drunken, ineffectual shove that I assumed it was just an inebriated stumble, so, once my hands were free, I steadied him up and politely asked him to mind himself. But my brother had come in behind him and, picking up on the tail of the conversation, recognised the implied threat, so reiterated to the guy that he had the wrong person. The man quickly backed down and left the toilets.

Only to confront me in the bar when I followed out a few minutes later. He angrily accused me of having had a "relationship" with some woman (I seriously couldn't catch the name, but discretion would forbid me from repeating it anyway) and refused to believe my continued, patient and polite denials to his increasingly heated accusations.

He concluded with "Go on and finish your next set, but after I'm going to do you in" which I thought was a little arrogant to say the least, as he clearly felt entitled to another hour's worth of entertainment before finishing what he'd quite obviously specifically set out to do that night.

He spent the second half looming over by the bar, quite visible at the back of the crowd due to his height, spacing his efforts between glaring at me, videoing the show and vigorously typing into his mobile phone. Which I have to admire, because after I've had a few drinks I find it very hard to type anything coherent into a message. Yet he seemed to be doing it in the middle of a very crowded, very lively pub. 

Of course, I only assume that what he was typing was coherent. I'm guessing it was along the lines of "this the guy?" to accompany the videos he was posting.

As I said though, it was otherwise a brilliant gig. The band played well and the crowd, packed full of friendly and familiar faces were lively, enthusiastic and noisy in their appreciation. Out friend Leah, who often stands in on drums for us, even drove down from Cheltenham with her fiancé to surprise us. We had a really great time.

And once the set was over, my new friend over by the bar staggered to the door and disappeared off into the night.

There are lots of bands that play around Bristol. There was, at one point, even one that had taken the same name as us (though we had it first by the best part of a decade) and, for a while a few years before the pandemic, caused some confusion, with their people turning up to our gigs and our people turning up to theirs. But whether they're still going, I don't know. I've not heard of them for some years now.

I'm guessing the front man of one of these bands, perhaps another Freefall, has had a relationship with somebody close to the gentleman (a daughter or granddaughter, maybe?)  and that it has tragically gone sour. So the man is out and about seeking some kind of retribution. 

My deepest sympathies to the lady in question, but I truly hope he doesn't find what he's looking for. For both his sake, and that of everybody else involved in what seems to be a very sad, sorry affair.