I Thought She Was Dead…

So, we wish we could tell you about how we are “in the studio”, or doing some fabulous shit in between tours and releases…but we’re not.  We’re working.  Minimum wage jobs, thankless minimum wage jobs.  It’s a means to an end.  A way to pay for this upcoming album and subsequent tour.  In working these minimum wage jobs, sometimes we do promotional work.  Promo work is WAAAAY better!  Financially and we can do it all over the US.  For people that tour like us, that’s a huge plus.  We got engaged on a promo tour (Yo Gabba Gabba Live) and promo tours help fund LFADM tours.  So when we got an email to work for one of the biggest natural organic juice companies, we jumped at the chance.  They were even gonna drop off a van for us so we could drive all over San Francisco and spread the gospel of the brand….


And that’s where it all started.  The van is a ’73 Volkswagon wrapped in branding of the company.  Cute to look at, but a bitch to drive.  No power steering, shitty brakes, no A/C or heat, and they delivered it to us broke.  The drive from Grover Beach, CA to the San Francisco Bay Area took FOREVER in that think, and it was SO STRESSFUL.  The owner of the van that this company is using (as you can see, I’m trying not to say the company’s name.) is a bit of a doucher.  He left specific instructions on how drive the car.  I don’t know if dude knew that we’d be driving this thing all over the ridiculous 90 degree angled hills of San Francisco.  We didn’t know we’d be doing that either…


After a few days of taking this beast on some of the steepest hills I’ve ever seen, we thought we’d be getting a break from the downtown area by having to go to a much flatter gorgeous part of San Francisco, Chrissy Field.  A gorgeous sunny day, the event went well, in typical Jason and Chicky fashion we even made a new friends.  Everything was coming up friggin roses until…


THAT GODDAMN VAN STALLED ON A HILL! Again, this is an old van that probably has like 50 Hp.  It’s not made to go up the ridiculous hills that San Francisco has to offer.  While following our new friend to her vacant house she offered to let us crash at, we stalled.  It was horrible.  It took about 20 minutes before we got the van up that damn hill.  But we did.  We continued to follow our new friend to her vacant house so we could put this day behind us, get some sleep and do it all over again, but we got lost.  I don’t exactly remember how, but we got separated, and I ended up in this real nice part of San Francisco.  Like the REAL NICE EXPENSIVE PART.  We pulled over to figure out where we were and asked some lady/man (I couldn’t really tell, totally had the whole Pat from SNL thing going on, confused the shit outta me) for directions.  Was no help at all.  Told it, that I couldn’t go up hills cause this thing couldn’t make it.  It just kept telling me that there was a great pizza place nearby that we should try.  This level of crazy I assumed was reserved for the inner city neighborhoods, but I see I was wrong.  After shim walked off the car that was parked in the driveway in front of us started to back out.  We patiently waited for the car to back out ever so slowly.  Like maybe 5 miles per hour out of a standard sized driveway.  It was weird and frustrating, and considering the fact that Chicky gets all weird when the vintage van stalls, she was NOT in the mood to wait 7 minutes for father time to back out of his driveway.  Oh did I forget to mention that dude was old? OH YEAH, he was old.  Had to be at the youngest in his 80’s.  Like really old.  Like you shouldn’t be driving anymore old.  As we are waiting for this man to back out of the driveway, his wife walks out.  In may head I figured this is just what happens.  He’s in a rush to go, so he backs out hella slow to speed her up out of the house…I don’t know if that’s how it actually was, but in my head it made all the sense.


We’re sitting.  Waiting for this car to leave so we can attempt to find our new friend who at this point we think is parked one house up waiting for us to go.  But we can’t go cause we’re waiting to see if this old dude and his wife actually leave so we can pull out and go.  All of a sudden the car slowly goes back in the driveway.  Confusion has turned to frustration that has turned into anger.  The wife, who looks equally as old (in her late 70’s or 80’s) is approaching the van.  She looks mad.  Keep in mind, we’re in a ’73 Volkswagon that has been totally redone so it looks brand new.  It’s wrapped in branding, so it actually doesn’t look like a hippie mobile.  But this lady approached anyway.  She was mad.  She was also frail.  She gingerly walked out of the car, from the driveway to the van.  I would not doubt if this was the most walking this lady had done in some time.  She yell’s as she approaches, “Who are you? Why are in front of my house? What do you wa….AAAARGGGH!” She fell.   I don’t know how she slipped on the concrete, but I’m not 80 so I’m sure you slip on glue at that age.  I wanted to stop the fall, but Chicky said all I did was yell out “Shit, shit, shit, shit she finna fall…”  I wanted to save this woman, but I’m in the van.  If I open the door I’ll hit her. I had and sit there and watch this 80 year old woman fall in slow motion in front of  me.  All I could think after “shit, don’t fall”, was “SHIT, DON’T DIE”! It took her so long to fall, before she even hit the ground I started yelling at Cyndy to call 911.  It looked like a Life Alert commercial.  By the time the old lady was done falling, she just lay there on the ground for a few seconds.  I thought she died.  I thought this angry old lady died right next to our van.  Shit.  She screamed, “I’m bleeding”.  I wanted to get out, but she was still laying right where my feet would’ve gone if I stepped out of the van.  Chicky ran over and asked if she needed help and her reply, “What are doing in front of my house?”


After explaining to her we were lost, and were getting ready to leave, she asked if we could help her up.  At this point I’m out the car.  The lady needed help up.  She had dropped her purse and jacket and asked if we could take it to her car.  I yell at Chicky to do it since I’m still trying to get this lady to let us call 911.  She scraped her hand so she was bleeding a bit.  Nothing real serious, but of course we didn’t want to risk infection.  It’s a bit dark out, and the lady hasn’t exactly made eye contact with me.  After she tells us to deliver her purse and coat to her hubby she asks for help up.  I go to help up and that’s when she realized I was black.  The look of terror in her eyes was priceless.  As I was helping her up Chicky tried to help too.  She does that a lot.  When things are under control and she wants to help.  It usually turns into an episode of “I Love Lucy”.  This was of course one of those moments.  First off in her rush to “help” she bumped into the already bleeding and injured old lady.  I looked over and let her know I had this under control.  I’m helping the lady up, but Cyndy just wants to give more support. Unneeded support.  Here is what happened:


Jason: Cyndy we’re good what are you doing

Cyndy: I’m supporting her!

Nameless Old lady: Could you please let go.  You’re grabbing my breast and it’s uncomfortable.


Now in defense of Chicky Arnez Jr., she was behind the lady trying to help her up.  I don’t know how holding her back was holding her boob, but hey, the older the titty, the more they like to wander.  You when those things get up in age they have a mind of their own.  After Chicky molests this elderly woman, she politely asks us to help her to her car.  I still feel bad, cause for a split second when she started falling, I thought she was dead, so I’m still trying to get her to go to a doctor.  She tells me her husband is a doctor…WHO’S HARD OF HEARING!  Yep pops is deaf.  And not in a funky fresh kinda way, but in a can’t hear a fucking thing kinda way.  We asked one last time if she needed anything, she said no, so we closed her door and walked back to the van.  As we got in the door I realized just exactly what we do to be able to continue to do music.  Damn.