A month ago I received an email from a brewery in Twisp, Washington. The Twisp River Pub was going to be hosting the legendary comedian Gallagher and being as I am on the email list for the brewery, I had first dibs at tickets. Hot dog! I wanted to go and I wanted to smash a watermelon. I called Mr. Pilver and asked if he wanted to go, fully expecting him to not have much of a clue who the man behind the Sledge-o-Matic was. It was a delightful slap in the face to find out that not only did my ’til death do us part know who Gallagher was, he’d apparently already seen him live. He told me I must also buy a ticket for my father-in-law, as he was a big fan as well.
So, three tickets were purchased and we only had time between us and the night of messy food-fight fun. I began to wonder, “Why in the world is Gallagher coming to Twisp?! Sure, his heyday and popularity was behind him, but a show with only 120 tickets at a pub in a town far from anything with a population of a mere 919 people seemed bizarre. Ah well, more of a chance for me to splatter watermelon into a crowd.
The night came and I was bouncing with anticipation (and Lucy is bouncing in my tummy, so I basically bounce all day long). We arrived early so we could eat a meal before the show started. Not long after we sat the man himself wandered through the seating area with his crazy unkempt hair and clutching a pack of camel cigarettes not appearing at all famous or legendary. My father in law greeted Gallagher and shook his hand, mentioning he has seen him in another town a few hours away a few years back. Gallagher’s response, “I slept in my car in that town last night!” I then hopped up and asked for a picture with him and he gladly obliged.
Gallagher then went to greet others and smoke more camels before the show started. We finished our meals and then whipped out the trash bags we’d brought from home to protect us from flying food.
As soon as Gallagher took the stage he noticed all the people scrambling to surround their bodies with plastic as we had. He had this message for the crown.
The show lasted around ninety minutes, of course, ending with flying food. He then invited people to come and smash watermelons and I used my fragile pregnant appearance to allow me to avoid the shoving and headed straight for the stage. AND THEN I SMASHED A WATERMELON NEXT TO GALLAGHER!!!
Dreams come true. My sandal clad feet were sticky and sweet with watermelon pulp and my hair had a bit of pumpkin and Spaghettios from the pies which Gallagher had smashed earlier. I headed for the ladies room to wash my hands and while inside I ran into a woman who was irate and the fact that she had pumpkin in her hair and cream corn on her sweater. She could not believe that she paid money to become filthy. I didn’t know how to respond to someone who was upset for becoming dirty at a Gallagher show, so I said nothing, dried my hands on a paper towel and left her to complain to the next bathroom visitor.
So, I met Gallagher. I smashed a melon with him. Life is good.