Last night‘s Christmas gig was a bust. I will have more details next Saturday, but after driving about 415 miles, the client—who booked me to play, smooth, jazzy Christmas music—said it wasn’t what they were looking for. Basically, they wanted some booty shaking butt music.
I had a bad feeling going into the gig, but my desire for a few extra bucks at Christmastime got the better of me.
It is a good reminder, not to get greedy, and to trust your instincts.
GigSalad tins to attract a demographic that does not necessarily understand the concept of contracts. It has been one of my primary beefs with the service.
That said, I will walk away with about half of the guarantee. The gig itself will be a bit of a wash financially. Fortunately, I racked up a lot of miles, which I can at least write off on my taxes.
I am now about to narrate my church’s Christmas cantata. Then it is back up to see Dr. Wife.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
—TPP
The Portly Politico 
Oh wow, thanks stinks. It sounds like you at least got paid for the drive. Hopefully you had a book or some good music to listen to. I hope y’all have a great first Christmas together. We were happy, and humbled, to be invited to be there.
Merry Christmas!
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Yes! It wasn’t a total loss. And I had a good time playing Christmas tunes. It was just a lesson to be as clear as possible with folks about what they’re buying. I thought I was, but I suppose I will do more next time to indicate very clearly what to expect.
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That’s disappointing Tyler. Being a small businessman has its up and
downs. Better luck on the next gig.
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