Tales of a Road Band: Seedy Bars

As a new band on the scene, we of course had to start at the bottom. We played our share of low-paying seedy joints to begin with and one of the very first (and worst?) was a Hamilton north-end bar called the “Picton Tavern.” It had a reputation for being rough and rowdy and at times downright dangerous. And although our music went over well, the patrons there lived up to their billing. They were not … let’s say — ideal citizens?

Tales of a Road Band is an ongoing series sharing my experiences as lead-singer of a touring Country Road Band back in the early 80s. — Corky and the County Outlaws. All true tales (memories) about some of the more colorful experiences that we shared together. Now, for the first time, I’d like to share them with you!


The north-end of Hamilton was well known for being the “seedy” part of town. Now if you happened to be in a bar (or playing in one) in that part of town on a Saturday night? Well seedy could turn into drunkenly wild and dangerous in a hurry. And the Picton Tavern was no exception. The regulars were a mix of falling-down drunks and chemically induced addicts — some even Both!

Before the night was even half over, most of them — were out of their frigging minds!

A girl-fight broke out on the dance floor that was right in front of the band. When their male counterparts stepped in to break it up — all hell broke loose!

Now the guys were slugging it out too, throwing roundhouse haymakers and wrestling each other up hard against the stage. We stopped playing mid-song and our drummer (heavy-set dude) stepped out in front of us carrying his mic-stand and armed us back as he stood waving his weapon menacingly in protection.

Eventually some kind of order was restored and the place returned to its usual noisy ruckus. A couple of the serving girls mopped the dots of blood and spit off of the dance floor and after I pointed it out — off the front of the stage as well. One of the fighting couples got escorted out by the bouncer and moments later, another guy (who looked like he’d broken his nose) left on his own with his foul-mouth girlfriend in tow.


Once things settled down we started playing again and out comes this lone girl who for the moment has the dance floor to herself and stands directly in front of the stage. Obviously drunk and/or drugged and/or both.

She starts slow-dancing suggestively with the music, not 3 ft. in front of me. My own not-so-private Lap-dance, all the while her shiny glazed-over eyes never leaving mine.

These over the top sexual flirtations that were obviously directed at me, lasted the duration of the entire song. But It was when she was still there obscenely mimicking what she’d like to do to me when we started up another song, that I became a little annoyed to say the least. And a little embarrassed to boot.

After all, my Mother and her sister were in the crowd, along with some of their friends and this girl was non-stop in her rude and suggestive manner. I doubt little miss over-sexed even knew where she was. Or cared?

When yet another song was completed, and she was still there, I’d had enough! I nodded at my brother and his buddy who were there per-arrangement in case of trouble. They moved in to remove her. At first, they tried to reason with her to no avail of course, and when they each grabbed an arm to escort her away? She snapped and went wild with rage! More akin to a rabid wild animal than a civilized human being.

She thrashed wildly, kicking and screaming in protest! The boys, barely hanging on! Then the most vile profanities you have ever heard poured out of that female creatures dirty mouth. She totally lost it, started freaking out, scratching and clawing, spitting and biting!

Yep, spitting and biting! It was causing quite the scene! And not long into it, the boys just gave up. As they were backing away from her they held out their open arms as if to say “It’s a girl man! What can we do?” So for the rest of the set I was resigned to having this skanky drugged-out girl gyrate suggestively in front of me while I was trying very hard (and unsuccessfully) to ignore her.

Now the boys in the band of course got a big kick out of this as you can imagine? Entertaining themselves with funny little comments and innuendos about me and my new band-named groupie. But I was distracted, embarrassed, and beginning to lose my cool.

But It wasn’t until she followed me into the men’s washroom between sets and offered some free um? “Lip-service?” that I became down-right angry. She even followed me back upstairs, grabbing at me while slurring her sexual promises, and so I looked for and found the bouncer.

Now surely this solved the problem you’d say?

But No, not in the north-end of Hamilton it didn’t! The bouncer just smiled and said — “What’s the matter? Your not Gay or something are you?”

I don’t recall what happened after that, but my groupie (as the boys in the band delighted in calling her) fades from memory from this point on. Most likely she left, passing out later over her toilet with the stench of her own vomit rising into the air. At least that’s what I hope happened!

The night finally ended! (but not yet the insanity!)

After the gig, as we were leaving, my base player got a deep gash on his nose from some drunk who attacked him and bit it during the fight. Yep, those early days weren’t easy. Playing in tough seedy taverns filled with drunken and drugged out patrons. And after a few months I’d had enough of the bottom of the barrel already.

But like most new bands just starting — we had to pay our dues!


There were more seedy looking bars of course, even some, that when we first got there the boys had to convince me to stay and play. Some turned out all right and some didn’t. But money was money and in the early days I had to keep the band working and the boys busy and happy. Getting paid regularly was always their first priority. So seedy or not, if a paycheck was waiting at the end, we played.

There was an old dark and seedy bar in Belview Ontario that we later played in and man, it really was pretty gross! I mean, it must have been well over a 100 years old and it looked like the carpeting both in the lounge and upstairs where the lodging bedrooms were, hadn’t been cleaned since it first opened.

In fact the communal bathroom and showering facilities upstairs by our rooms were so dirty and disgusting (and the tub, so filthy) that I wore my socks while taking a shower. Later the boys and I went shopping and we all bought cheap rubber flip-flops to wear while showering and our own personal towels.

I was walking down the hallway one night after a shower and passed a guy carrying a huge salmon. He said he had just caught it in the river that ran behind the bar. As he walked to his room carrying this huge dead fish, I wondered what the hell he was going to do with it. Fillet it and cook it up right there in his room on one of those portable propane camping stoves? Or maybe just throw it in the bathtub until morning?

Rub-a-dub-dub — smelly fish in the tub?


The small stage where we played was directly beside and about 30 ft. from the long-running bar. And every night sitting on a stool right in the corner facing us was this young girl. Cruelly, she did have a very young and sexy looking body. I say cruelly because she was cursed with a horribly enlarged head and disfigured face.

I’m not exaggerating when I describe this poor girl as a spitting female image of the creature portrayed in “The Elephant man!” Same disease I suppose?

I felt pity and revulsion all at the same time and although I tried very hard not to look at her while on stage, my eyes would wander back time and time again. She must have been a very brave girl to sit there in public like that, knowing how she looked and how people would gawk at her and all?

And in a barroom filled with drinkers no less!

I tried several times to muster up the courage to go talk to her between sets but sadly, I just couldn’t do it. To this day I regret and chastise myself for this lack of courage. She seemed to enjoy our music and I’m sure it would have more than brightened up her day to get a quick between sets visit from one of the boys in the band.

God knows that poor brave girl deserved a little moment of happiness. I just wish I could have found the courage that day to be the one that gave it to her.


NOTE: Please take some time and read my Band Member Disclaimer. It will from here on out act as an official disclaimer when referencing band members in any given story. Myself not included of course.

RELATED POSTS — Memories of an Outlaw Band Tales of a Road Band: What could go Wrong Did!



10 thoughts on “Tales of a Road Band: Seedy Bars

  1. The part about the lonely girl who sat at the bar every night broke my heart. I can imagine how you regret never talking to her — even a “hello, how’s it going” would’ve meant the world to her. Man, the guilt of that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yeah Bill and I’d made up my mind to talk to her next time for sure. And I think I would of too! But we never did play there again. One of the few places we only played once. Definitely a regret on my list of many.


  2. Rock and roll at its seediest! I bet it was lots of fun between the fights and inappropriate sexual advances though!? I was never a member of band but I do remember getting into a fight at a small bar concert once. I ended up dancing with a girl which upset another male patron – he shoved me across the dance floor. My friend launched at him – tackling him into the drum set! Made quite a racket. When I got up off the floor the whole bar had erupted into a fight – like a country western – utterly bizarre. Eventually the guy who started a fight with me found me amongst the chaos – he picked up a glass bottle and smashed me over the head with it. Blood everywhere – I made my escape. I’d like to say the story ended there – but when we left we stood with the bouncers outside the place and explained the situation. The man came out looking for us with several of his friends and surrounded up. Started picking up stools and smacking us with them – bouncers did nothing because it was outside the club! Eventually the police showed and they ran. We took ourselves to hospital – I ended up with 5 stitches and and my friend ended up have a gaping wound in his head stapled back together! All in all a cracking night!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hey Pilot! Good bar-fight story! What I liked was it was sans weapons no? Other than the bar stools which, If I’m not mistaken, are fair tools in a bar fight as per Queensberry rules (bar-fight edition, lol.) Sadly today, in a lot of cases these rules are simply ignored and someone ends up getting stabbed or even shot. Kids these days! — just no respect for old tradition.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Haha I agree – pulling a gun is a cowards game. Any fool can win with a gun which is why no fool should have one if you ask me. The bar stools weren’t so bad but the glass bottle to the head was rather dangerous. If he’d sliced my eye I wouldn’t be a pilot today! This guy was definitely on drugs – I remember the look in his eyes well! He was looking for a fight that night. Thinking back its good he didn’t have gun or a knife. The story might not have been one I got to tell…

        Liked by 1 person

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