Between The Covers: A Run-In with Thirty Seconds to Mars
by Torch
The show was 30 Seconds to Mars and the buzz around the office was all about the lead singer, Gerod, Jerret, Garret something like that. I don’t know who he is, so I have had a string of employees come up to me saying, “He was in Fight Club, he got beat up.”
Well that was pretty non- specific, just about everyone got beat up in Fight Club.
“He was also in My So Called Life, the TV series!”
Sorry, I’ve never seen it. This continued on throughout the day as most everyone was swooning and acting like I am an idiot for not knowing who he was. I’ve learned by now, after the Dave Navarro mishap, to look up the band on the internet before the show so I could recognize them, and thus not Lucy my way into unemployment.
Okaaay, looking on line, his name is Jared Leto. Cute. No, I don’t remember him from any of his films but that doesn’t surprise me from my non-stick brain. I played a few seconds of some of the band’s songs on YouTube; yes they sounded vaguely familiar. Alright, I will pop downstairs during sound check and take a quick look for myself and then be done. The first band did sound check; this seemed a bit odd as usually the headliner goes first.
The line around the venue started early, mostly teenage girls, dressed in half punk half gothic garb (there is probably some new fashion term for it but I refer to it as what it is, teen-aged angst). They were all twitter pated over seeing JARED (pant, pant)… Many of them paid an extra few hundred bucks for a meet and greet with the band. That’s where they get to stand next to their beloved band member and have a photo taken. The industry term for this is a lap dance; stand there and smile with your arm around a complete stranger and click, next. I made an attempt to go from the office up stairs, to the ladies room in the venue and had to wade through the giggling girls waiting for the meet and greet. Hum, it should have started by now. Come to think of it the band should have been here hours ago for sound check.
Back upstairs the phone rang, it was the band’s bus driver. I passed the call to the General Manager and hear him growl, “Well that’s just great!” He stomped out of his office and announced to the production manager, “They’re still on the fucking freeway, stuck around Alameda and I-25! The fucking tour manager is completely worthless!” This was true, it is the tour manager’s job to make sure they arrive on time. The bus wasn’t far but it was rush hour. The back stage back black comedy struggle to make everything run smoothly for the venue and the fans is common when dealing with the touring world.
“Hey Boss, the meet and greet should have started over a half hour ago, what are we going to tell those kids?” I tentatively inquired.
“The band is going to have to figure that out, we just need them to clear out and wait for the doors.”
I didn’t say anything more, but it pisses me off when bands don’t show up for their fans. Have they forgotten how hard it is for a teenager to come up with a couple of hundred dollars just to have a photo taken with a star? The meet and greet kids were herded back outside; a few in tears, as they were told the photos were to be rescheduled for after the show.
The smoke machines were overly tested as the venue looked like London on a cold night. It always freaks me out, wondering what the hell we are all breathing. It occurred to me that now that smoking is banned from indoor events, that new fangled smoke must be created to lend to the ambiance of seedy nightlife and for their laser shows to really have the desired effect. Hum, tap tap tap where is the band? 30 Seconds my ass!
The show starts with the bass rumbling the old rafters and cheers of thousands rushes through the air vents. The energy is tangible with that much excitement expelled in a moment. The main act rolls into the parking lot, and a few choice words are exchanged as they do a quick fix set up for a late meet and greet. Most artists don’t like to do this at the end of the show as they are tired, need a shower, water, and want to get the hell out of there. The venue doesn’t like it either as they have to keep the security, fire, and medical staff there longer which equals more money, but that will all be worked out at the end of the night during settlement.
30 Seconds to Mars hits the stage to a roar! I leave my desk for a moment and go for a peek. Jared is shirtless, running around the stage waving a flag. The band is playing but there is a notable track of music playing along with them, in my world that is cheating but most big acts do it. The smoke is thick, and the lasers are doing their dance. After about half of a song I go back to my desk. A good thirty minuets into the set the stage manager comes up and tells us Jared is hot, can we please turn on the vents. The GM said ‘sure’ to the manager, and explained how it will draw out the smoke for your lasers but that was okay with the band. Well the air was turned on and yes it was bloody hot in there. The fans were dancing and singing along with the band the whole show. Overall the band was pretty good by my standards, not great as they are using a back up track, and they seem to lack originality. But remember I am nobody important, just an observer.
I do feel I am missing something here as one of the women I work with came up stairs giggling and flushed, chanting “Jared looked at me! This is better than any Christmas or my birthday! Jared looked at me!” As I am not one to swoon over complete strangers this response escapes me. The reality is he is just a guy, a guy in a band, okay and an actor.
I busied myself with putting the bills together for the night. It was rounding the ten o’clock hour when I finished and the band finished too. My boss started shoving me out the door so I wouldn’t run into the band. I forgot to clock out. He followed me assuring my escape without incident with the band, as he is often the Ricky to my Lucy.
“No, cut through the kitchen, it’s shorter,” he yelled after me.
I scurried through the kitchen with my purse in one hand, lunch bag and laptop in the other. I grabbed my keys from security telling her how, “I need to get out before the talent!” Arms loaded I gave the door a half kick and stepped right into Jared Leto. We both stood in shock for a moment as I almost knocked out his teeth with the door. I looked into his blue eyes and sweaty face, that moment millions of women would kill for and the first thing I thought was “Oh God, don’t let my boss see me!” That was quickly wiped away with the fact that the steamy Leto was still shirtless, and that led to the thought, “If I had the time I’d like you to slap me on the ass like a stand-up bass.” Instead I blurted out “Good show, sorry it was so hot,” as I looked for an escape around the busses that were packed in tight. He thanked me in an awkward moment. I obviously worked there, hauling my lunch and work laminates dangling. It was a good thing I didn’t bash his face in with the door that would have cost the company a butt-load of cash. He went on with his conversation with one of the tour guys about how he felt his voice wasn’t so strong that night. I didn’t stop to tell him it was probably due to the altitude. I was bustling around them, back and forth in need of an escape. I kept trying to find a way out before the boss saw me talking to the talent. I do also realize that I looked like a lunatic in my John Lennon blue eyeglasses, teal silk jacket, long hair flowing all over and arms loaded with bags and keys clanging from my pinky.
I kept thinking ‘crap that’s the talent!’ I am not going to screw up tonight; I am not going to screw up tonight. There was a van parked up against the front of the band bus, so I figured it was my only way out, swinging one leg over the front I ended up straddling the bumper of the van, back to the bus and tried to slide out. My lovely Chinese jacket with the knot and tie buttons got caught in the grill of the bus. I was stuck, stuck to the tour bus like some unfortunate moth, wriggling and flailing. Shit! The vision of me going on tour as grill road kill made me give up my struggle in futility and wonder where the next stop would be.
I heard the General Manager’s voice in my head telling everyone “Stay off the bus!! If you get on the bus, you are off the payroll!” I wondered if that included the grill.
I looked back over my shoulder at Jared and the roadie, and decided not to call out for help, my arms were full so I couldn’t undo it myself, I just waited there until a security guard came and unhooked me. While waiting I read the multitude of bumper stickers on the van. After all the hype of the day I had to agree that yes, Jarod Leto, blue eyes, half dressed and all sweaty was not at all unpleasant to look at.
Category: Buzzworthy
Subscribe
If you enjoyed this article, subscribe to receive more just like it.
 |
 |
