Bandequette
So, I’ve been playing shows for a solid 6 years now I guess, which, hindsight, makes me feel extremely old. In fact, this is me at this very moment: 
With this crusty old age comes knowledge. Yes. I am in fact knowledgeable about things and stuff. I know that mixing toothpaste with milk or apple juice is not a good idea, and having after parties in apartments at 3am with a bottle of jager ensues police at around 7am. I also know that when you play shows, you are representing yourself and your band while you’re there. If you get drunk and insult the validity of the opening bands and their talent or lack thereof, chances are, you won’t be playing with them again. If you bring a bunch of underagers with fake i.d.’s to a 19+ show, the booking agent might take the money you made in door tickets and give it to the liquor board to pay the hefty fine that comes with underage drinking charges.
Also within these past 6 years of playing shows, I’ve learned my likes, and dislikes about performing in general.
I like getting paid.
I like using my own mic, and do so because every time I used to play with the house mic, it would end up smelling like stale beer and boy sweat. A fine mix for a seperate occasion.
I like sound techs that stay at the sound booth for the duration of the set unless they’re on the floor rocking out or checking levels.
I like when bands chill beforehand. You can learn a lot from other people in this industry.
Now… what I don’t like, (and the purpose for this blog) is when bands load out during other peoples sets. I mean, I see how it is and it’s not cool.
Here’s what I think went through your little emo heads before the loading out happened.
You booked a show based on the fact that you heart music and you wanna play and have a good time. Not so that you can support the other people that also heart music and wanna play and have a good time and brought some people to see not only thier band but yours. Selfish selfish selfish.
You then decided to take the opening slot so that you can go somewhere else afterwards, or maybe you have to work in the morning, either way, you’re lame. Everyone works, which is part of the beauty of not everyone making it in this business. It’s called freakin’ dedication people… not just any kind of dedication, but “freakin'”.
So, you play your set, and you’re pretty happy about it. You played well; you might even be sweating a little bit, but oh… oh… 😦 oooohhhhh…. your drink tickets are gone… hm… what to do what to do… stay and watch the other bands you had the pleasure to play with and vice versa? or…. goooo…. hm… decisions decisions decisions.
So, you pack up your equipment while the 3rd band is on their 3rd last song, cause you just can’t wait the 12 minutes it’ll take for the singer to say, “Thank you and don’t forget to tip your waitress” before you can lug your crap out the door inconspicously. You have to leave now. So you do, and guess what? You probably forgot to tip the waitress.
Alas, you grab your heaviest piece of equipment from the very back of the venue and trudge toward the door interrupting a crowd of happy people having happy fun time so you can go home to your teddy and a warm cup of milk. You might even step on a few people’s toes, (both physically and metaphorically). You have now successfully distracted people from the band that is essentially working, and you might even distract the band. Good on ya’! All eyes on you buddy.
Not only are the loading doors the smoking doors, but the walkway is extremely small, so you pass by without discretion inturupting yet another crowd of people from even entering the building to see the band they paid to see. Now, this may only have taken… what… 2 minutes to accomplish? But usually when this happens, (and I’m not talking just about when I’m playing shows, it happens when I’m at shows and it pisses me off…) you’re a drummer. Drummer’s have at least 5 pieces… and a bag.. so, that’s 5 trips x 2 minutes each, equalling 10 minutes for the 12 minutes you couldn’t wait to get the shit out of there.
Have some respect for show goers, players, and workers. You’ve signed on for the night. Stay. Support. Don’t drink and drive. Next time, I’ll trip you.
See? That’s you. Sans stairs. I’ll trip you straight up.
Shmamberley's Brain Wash 
I lufs you!