“There were a lot of people signed up, most playing snoozy Neil Young covers. I had some drinks. Then more drinks. By the time my name was called, I was bored and in the mood for some head-cutting.
“I wanted my smokes, beer and ashtray with me. After carrying everything on stage, I pulled a second pint of beer out of my shorts, to the audience’s laughter and surprise. I chugged the first pint and put all my shit down. It took forever. A lady in the corner was giving me the stink eye, and I hadn’t even begun playing. Stoned, buzzed and ornery, I played a love song I wrote called “Vomit on My Cock.” It was met with a smattering of applause and uncomfortable laughter. The lady was now intently staring at me.
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“I decided to push it, and went into a song about hippies...and at that moment, the lady in the corner yelled, “Get off the stage!” She looked at me with a fierceness I hadn’t met in a long time. I put out my cigarette and made my way off the stage. Years Later, I found out that the lady who yelled at me was the Mercury’s owner, who to this day still gives me the stink eye.”
Editor's Note: The Denver Bootleg is a series chronicling the history of local music venues by longtime Denver cartoonist Karl Christian Krumpholz. Visit Krumpholz's website to see more of his work.