As a trad fiddler, I always had a gig or two on St Patrick’s Day. Some of them have been humdrum, but a couple stand out as WTF. 

In Dublin one year, I played an afternoon gig in the Parnell Mooney. Mid-tune, a brawl burst through the door. One of the brawlers pickup up a bar stool and started beating the other guy across the pub floor and out another door. No one batted an eyelid and the band didn’t skip a beat. 

In Belgium another year, we were booked to play a gig in Groot-Bijgaardn. We were a jazz/funk outfit at the time, but the bookers just heard we were Irish and were expecting The Chieftains. Our drummer never showed up and so our friend John offered to play drums for us. He was spectacularly underqualified for the roll, having never played drums in his life.  

We did not go down well. In fact, after about 40 minutes, they asked us to stop playing and go home. When we got to our van, there were a couple of bouncers sitting on the bonnet. Not only had we drank through all our appearance money, we had run up a bar tab and owed almost the same amount again back to the venue. They wouldn’t let us leave until we paid what we owed.  

Nearly 30 years on, the band is back together again, and we’re looking forward to some new gig adventures.