Jake ignored the incident the best he could. He never paused in his playing, didn't acknowledge her presence in anyway, didn't make any remarks as she was taken off the stage. He didn't react but such incidents always left him nervous and adrenalized. Though he had no objection to bare breasts being rubbed against his person, he had no idea who these women were or what they were going to do when they reached him. So far they had been nothing but drunken high school or college age girls with crushes, usually acting on a dare by their equally drunken friends. Occasionally the stage rush was a premeditated act, a chance for a girl to get her ten seconds in the spotlight, to be able to say she had touched Jake Kingsley or Matt Tisdale. There was always the possibility, however, that one of these girls might be one of the bible-throwers who had decided to take things to the next level and stick a knife in Jake's or Matt's chest or maybe pump a few rounds into one of them from a Saturday night special. After all, security at most of these venues was pretty much a joke. The audience was subjected to only cursory pat downs before being admitted.
We need to get the security guys to move a little faster, Jake thought as Matt's solo wound down and the final verse began. Half the time I don't even see these chicks coming until they're on top of me.
Point Of Futility ended. Jake bantered with the crowd for a few seconds and then they launched into The Thrill Of Doing Business. The crowd stomped and cheered, singing along with Jake through the entire tune. No more bibles came up and no more women rushed the stage. They ended the song with a final, drawn out flourish and then basked in the cheers as they took their bows. They then walked off the stage. The stage lights were turned off and the house lights were turned up. The crowd continued to call for more for a few minutes before gradually quieting as they realized the show was really over. In accordance with the first law of performing, Intemperance had left them wanting more. The Tallahassee show was at an end.
The band was led back through several backstage doorways to their dressing room. Here, a virtual feast had been laid out for them by a catering service hired by the venue. There were barbequed ribs, beef brisket with barbeque sauce, chicken breasts, baked beans, potato salad, corn on the cob, and asparagus spears. And, for the benefit of Charlie, who proclaimed himself a vegetarian, there was a thick pasta salad garnished with oregano. In addition to the food there were tubs full of beer, a small but well-stocked hard liquor bar, a tray with high-grade marijuana and a bong, and a silver case stocked with two grams of high-grade cocaine that Greg Gahn, their hypocritical Mormon tour manger, was not allowed to come within five feet of.
"Good show, guys, good show," Greg said as they grabbed beers or mixed drinks. "One of your best."
"You say that every fuckin' night, Greg," Matt said as he poured six ounces of Jack Daniels into a water glass and then put three ounces of Pepsi on top of it.
"And you don't even watch the shows, do you?" asked Jake. "You just sit back here and drool over the cocaine."
"I watch the show every night," Greg said. "At the very least I listen to it. And I have no interest in your cocaine. Heavenly Father has shown me the error of my ways. I haven't touched that devil's powder in almost two years now."
"God showed you the way, huh?" Matt asked. "The fact that our new contract stipulated that we wouldn't pay for your blow anymore didn't have anything to do with it?"
"Of course not," Greg said righteously. "I resent that you would even make that allegation."
Jake cracked open a beer and sat down in one of the chairs. He took a few drinks, enjoying the sensation of fresh alcohol slamming into his empty stomach. He drained the Corona in less than three minutes and then immediately opened another one. After half of this beer was in his stomach he finally got up and began putting food onto a plate.
"How's that pasta salad?" Jake asked Charlie a few minutes later as he gnawed on one of the ribs.
"Just the way I like it," Charlie replied. "Cold and sterile."
"Fuckin' sterile," Matt said, rolling his eyes and giving a little shake of the head.
One of Charlie's many oddities was his obsessive phobia regarding germs, microbes, amoebas, and parasitic insects. He carried disinfectant wipes with him everywhere and wiped down every surface that any part of his body would have to come into contact with. He wiped each beer bottle before he opened it, every piece of silverware he used, every toilet seat, toilet handle, and bathroom sink. He wiped his bass guitar down before doing the sound check each day and instructed his assistant to do the same before each actual performance. He washed his hands no less than thirty times each day, using a special anti-bacterial soap he carried in the same container as his wipes. Even his vegetarianism was related to this phobia.
"So are you like a vegetarian because you don't like that people kill animals or because you think meat is unhealthy?" Matt had asked him back in the beginning, when they'd started introducing him to the songs they would be playing on the tour.
"Neither," Charlie had replied.
"Neither? Then why don't you eat meat?"
"Tapeworms," Charlie said, as if that explained everything.
"Tapeworms?" Matt asked. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"Do you know what tapeworms are?" Charlie asked, shuddering at the very thought of them. "They're these worms that get into your intestinal tract and grow there, eating everything you eat, getting bigger and bigger and bigger. Sometimes they can get eighteen feet long."
"That is pretty fuckin' gross," Matt had to agree. "But what the hell does that have to do with being a vegetarian?"
Charlie looked at him as if he were an idiot. "The number one cause of tapeworm infestation is the consumption of meat products," he said. "All it takes is one little tapeworm cyst — something that's almost microscopic in size — and the next thing you know you've got a sixteen footer sucking up all your nutrients. Uh uh. That shit ain't gonna happen to me. If I don't eat meat, it never will."
"You realize, of course," said Matt, "that you live in fucking America, right? This ain't goddamn Zimbabwe or The fucking Gambia. I ain't never heard of an American getting a tapeworm from eating a burger or a steak."
"And I find that particularly ominous," Charlie whispered. "Someone has to be the first, don't they?"
They really couldn't argue with this logic. In truth, they didn't even want to try.
After eating their fill from the food the band members began cycling in and out of the shower in the next room, washing Doreen's hairspray out of their hair and changing into fresh jeans and t-shirts. Once they were all clean they smoked a few bonghits and drank a few more drinks. Coop, Nerdly, and Matt all snorted some cocaine. Jake abstained from the blow because he was making a conscious effort to imbibe in it as little as possible on this tour. He didn't want to have to rely on it to keep him awake during the evening party hours or during the day when they were trying to do their autograph and interview sessions on little sleep. The coke was something that was just a little too pleasurable and he feared having to go into rehab because of overuse. Charlie simply didn't use cocaine at all, claiming it wasn't sterile enough to be placed into his body.
"All right, Jack," Matt said to Jack Ferguson, the head of tour security. "You got some sluts staging out there for us?"
"Naturally," Jack said. It was he and his team who were responsible for finding a selection of attractive and slutty young women in each city to help entertain the band members after the show. Their requirements were simple. The women had to be hot, willing to perform any sexual act asked of them, be it publicly or privately, and they had to be willing to give a blowjob to a security team member in order to prove they were proper Intemperance groupie material. During the first two tours Jack had always brought the girls back immediately after the show. During the previous tour and during this one, at the band's request, he kept them just outside so the band could eat and shower in peace.