Richard
S
huffling slowly into the terminal,
I swiped back my hair as the familiar exhaustion of jet lag hit me full force. My body was tired, my mind weary, and I was so glad to be back on American soil that I could’ve kissed the ground.
I wasn’t going to, but I felt like I could.
“God, that was an awful trip.” Grumbling to myself as I scanned the busy terminal, I shook my head at my own stupidity. What was I expecting, exactly, when one of my best bands got into a drunken brawl in Copenhagen- of all f*****g places? “That’s right- three weeks of absolute Hell…”
The authorities in Denmark refused to deal with the manager, and I had to fly out there myself to fix the mess. Apparently, the police, hotel, and venue involved didn’t like it when property was destroyed, theft occurred, and
