Goldfarb...Sandy Goldfarb::


Dude,let me tell you something about life that may save you some trouble, some aggravation and a little bit of time someday if you take it to heart: Rich people suck a big fat one.

Now, obviously blanket statements like this one are nearly always wrong in some instances, because you can never really account for every little skewed outlier in the distribution. But in general, in my incredibly limited and in no way qualifying experience, rich people do indeed suck a big fat one.

So we were hired to play a show at this guy's house in South Hampton. Like, in the Hamptons. The ones you always hear about, where celebrities hang out and make uncensored sex videos. Anyway, the house was pretty big, especially for a second or third house, which it probably was, and had this huge, immaculately groomed, football field sized yard with a sparkling pool and where they had set up a stage and dance floor. In addition, for the obscene numbers of driveling, spoiled, and boudary-less little brats they had running around, the guy had hired a bunch of those inflatable carnival games...you know like where you put on the velcro suit and throw yourself up and the big sticky wall. Yeah, great fun there. Anyway, the point is, these were not your regular cake and ice cream, game of outburst of if you're lucky, seinfeld trivia kind of party people. These were catered affair, grilled food to your request, huge inflatable carnival games, band and DJ and pool and cake and ice cream-- rich-ass snobby people. Complete with annoying bratty little spoiled kids.

Don't get me wrong, I like kids, but these mongrels were straight out of the bowels of hell. They were all over all of our equipment, wanting to play with it and touch everything, and their parents thought this was just the funniest thing...ha ha, no go ahead tiffany, pee all over my new speaker cabinet, its ok cause mommy has fake tits. That's another thing about this party. All the people were beautiful. Like, expensive beautiful. The whole yard just kind of bounced. The dudes were all buff and had good hair, and all the chicks had tiny waists and asses, with these enormous, completely disproportionate breasts that looked as though they were taken right off the shelves of a sporting goods store. It was unreal. And the whole time it was like we were just a prop for these beautiful rich peoples' spoiled, rich, beautiful kids. They took to coming up on stage while we were playing and getting in our way and knocking things over and just generally being a huge pain in the ass, and expecting us to cater to them and their needs. So that was right up our alley.

And they treated us like shit. The guy wanted everyone and their brother, including his asshole brother to sit in with the band. This one guy totally beat the crap out of our drummer's drum kit. And by "beat the crap out of them", I mean he beat them like they killed his mom. After a while, we just had to be like, no, you're trogladytic half-cousin can not sit in on bongos. He just can't, that's why. They also kept requesting these hard rock covers which we don't do because, strangely enough, we're not a hard rock cover band. We're actually a funk/soul original band, but we can see how you idiot rich people might have gotten those two diametrically opposed genres confused, seeing as how they're nothing alike in any discernable way.

And everyone there treated us like waiters. No one spoke to us except the guy whose house it was, and even he could only break away from the breasts long enough to say, "play another set in twenty minutes." It sucked.

But they did pay us a lot of money which, it later turned out, wasn't nearly enough for the torture that we endured while there. So let this be a lesson to all you kids out there: fake tits do not outway the rich snobby assholes that are usually not far behind. Although, in some extreme cases, they might exceed them in volume.