We finally did something in Charleston that we’d been talking about doing for over a year now. We walked on stage with the Sega Dreamcast Virtua Tennis theme song as our intro music. It was the perfect place to do it because the Family Circle Arena is on some country club plot of land with tennis courts everywhere. So Adam recorded the song onto his computer and burned it to disc and we walked out to the cheesy keyboard and drum machine anthem that we’ve heard in the back lounge of the bus every night on this tour. People kind of clapped but mostly wondered why we were laughing (and strutting) to such bad music. I felt like Carlos Moya on percussion.
But listen to this: When I woke up and got off the bus in the morning I kind of wandered through the surroundings. Lots of tennis players drinking lemonade and charging things to the Underhill’s tab. I was wearing my t-shirt with the human intestines labeled on it and my pilly floral Jams shorts. I had big puffy allergy-plagued eyes, messy hair, and a beard. Looking for a bathroom I wandered into the Tennis Pro Shop at the country club, where the two clerks appraised me and instantly begged “CAN I HELP YOU — CAN I HELP YOU — CAN I HELP YOU!!??”
Not a genuinely helpful salesman’s inquiry, but more like a If I Had A Button That Would Activate A Trap Door Below Your Feet I Would Be Pushing It Frantically kind of inquiry. And that kind of “Can I help you?” really isn’t helpful at all. I pretended to look at a few Sergio Tacchini jackets, dropped a few eye boogers on their floor, and left.