✕（ ⋮ @trampnextdoor. ）
When Pete invited everybody who liked the Shallow Gravy Facebook fanpage to show up at their Wednesday-night-Thursday-morning gig at the tiniest venue in New York City, Hank wasn’t expecting Triana Orpheus to actually show up. Moreso, he wasn’t expecting Triana Orpheus to be the only one who showed up.
Hank and Dermott, of course, still played as if they were a sold-out prime-time show at Madison Square Garden, rather than a bar that nobody has ever heard of, on a weeknight, hours after every sane person had gone to bed. Complete with shirts ripped off and a disastrous attempt at stage diving, they treated Triana, Pete and Billy like wild fans, rather than an overly enthusiastic pseudo-manager, an overly enthusiastic pseudo-manager’s ward, and an estranged childhood friend who probably only showed up for a chance to run into Dean.
Toward the middle of their second encore, Dermott tripped on a wire and unplugged the amp, and it was quietly decided that it would be their final song for the evening. After their goodnights and sick exit, Hank hopped off the stage to thank her for coming. Half because he was worried that dedicating two of their performances of “Jacket” to her wouldn’t be enough to show his appreciation, and half because he didn’t want to help pack up.
❝ So, keep it on the D.L., but the band and V.I.P.s are heading out to a wild after party. The drinks are free and there’s a banana peanut butter one with your name on it. ❞
He clarified,
❝ And by ‘after party,’ I mean the 24-hour ice cream shop down the street, and by ‘free drinks,’ I mean me and Billy cut extra coupons. ❞
