A Foo-less Encounter with The Struts

“Oh shit Glori, I think that’s the Struts,” I said mid-squint as we entered into the fluorescent lit fast food joint across the street from our hotel. 

It was almost 3am in Nashville and all we wanted, all we needed, was some fried food to soak up the Patron. 

Although the next night’s Foo Fighters concert was cancelled, ahem, postponed due to a mysterious family emergency, we wanted to be functional enough hours later for a day about Nashville. We flew all the way from New York for the concert so wanted to make the most of our trip. 

“Who?” asked Glori, also mid-squint, in a half-hazed sort of way as we approached the register to order.

“They opened for the Foos, remember? We saw them in DC last week.”

We were not prepared for this. After a long, fun night of bar hopping on Broadway, we arrived to our room, kicked off our shoes, aggressively removed our lipsticks with bathroom tissue and skimmed through the room service menu. We happily decided on our order - wings, a cheeseburger and fries to split. A perfect portion and combination of food.

“Hi, I’d like to order room service,” Glori announced into the phone. I can tell she was desperately trying to control the end of the night slur and was over enunciating in the process, in addition to being fucking loud. I laughed as I pulled my hair into a pony. 

“What do you mean, there is no room service?!” The slur is back. “The whole reason we chose this hotel was for the 24 hour room service!”

That wasn't the reason, but ok, maybe this rant will get us food.

After a minute of trying to negotiate a burger, she agreed to order food from a nearby restaurant. Within 3 minutes, there was a lovely young gentleman at our door with an even lovelier pizza menu. 

“Do you know how long they take?” I asked.

“About 45 minutes ma’am.” 

“45 minutes?!” I knew I would be dead asleep in 45 minutes. I didn't have that kind of time to spare. We needed food. NOW. He saw my distress.

“Well, there is a place still open right across the street.”

So, there we were…

“Yup that’s them,” I confirmed to Glori (really to myself) as she placed two orders of chicken nuggets and onion rings.

I tried not to be obvious as I scoped out their table. They were done eating and were just kinda hanging out - chatting it up and laughing. The lead singer Luke Spiller, with his pearly porcelain skin and Joan Jett hair, stood near the table alongside a tall, thin, honey blonde with a seductively low cut shirt accentuating her large, perfectly perky ‘look at me’ tits. They have to be fake, I thought.

“Glori, I’m going up to him to take a selfie,” was my immediate reaction.

“Yeah Monica, go. Do it now before they leave.” I realized she didn't recognize the band because she would have been all over it herself.

I walked up to Luke, phone in hand. “Hey! You’re Luke from the Struts, right?” 

“Yeah,” he confirmed with a half smile. He had the same glassy-eyed post Nashville night out look we had. I introduced myself.

Luke and his model girlfriend were warm and welcoming. I was surprised by how nice they were and was smitten by their British accents. 

We were unexpectedly interrupted by a pompous American accent who chimed in with a delayed response, “His name is not Luke and he isn't in the Struts,” he said in a tone reminiscent of an 80’s movie bully.

He was so out of place we all just looked at him like WTF, Luke included. 

I ignored the idiot and continued my chat with the British rock star. 

“We saw you guys in DC at The Anthem when you opened for the Foos. It was awesome.”

“Oh, thank you. Yeah, it was a great show.” 

“I also saw you guys at Irving Plaza in New York.” He lit up

“That show was cool, man. I loved the confetti!”  As soon as I said that, I knew it was a loser comment sort of like Baby’s “I carried a watermelon” moment in Dirty Dancing. Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice.

“I’m sorry my friend offended you,” he said as he looked in the direction of his annoying AF friend.

“I’m from LA,” the guy interjected with a smirk. 

“Well, I’m form New York and I’ll make you cry,” was my response. Good one.

The guy semi-apologized in a half-assed non-memorable way. This time I interjected, “Don't worry bro, I’m tough. I’m from the Bronx. Look at my earrings,” I boasted as I pointed to my heart shaped bamboo earrings.

Luke looked puzzled. I was too. Why would I say that? 

I changed the tone of the conversation realizing the lanky LA maggot wasn't above getting into a back and forth with me.

“How’s the food here?” I asked as a filler.

“It’s ok. It’s wha(t)ever.”

“We tried to order room service at our hotel but it wasn't available,” I recalled which triggered a response from Glori.

“Yeah, what the fuck? It's a nice hotel - where is the room service?!” she asked passionately, both hands in the air.

It turned out they were staying at the same hotel and were referred to the fast food spot too because of the lack of food in the area.

We briefly spoke about the Foos and the family emergency (we couldn't pry more information out of them except what we already knew - that the show would be rescheduled in May). They said they might be back in May as well, but didn't seem certain.

Luke walked over to his friends and bandmates while Glori went off to check on our order. I made conversation with Luke’s lovely girlfriend, applauding her for her precise winged eyeliner that lasted until 3am all while stealing multiple peaks at her eye level gravity defying boobs. Real or not, they were impressive.

Luke came back to say goodbye and we exchanged a hug. I then reached out my arms to his girlfriend (I needed to get closer to those boobs). He looked over at Glori who was now seated at the table next to us, her head turned down.  What is her deal? She could handle more alcohol than we consumed that night. Something was up. *

He sort of poked at her shoulder and asked if she was ok. 

“Yeah, she’s fine,” I reassured him.

She perked up and they exchanged an awkward hug goodbye. **

As they left, we waved, “Bye, see you next time in May!”

Suddenly, one of the Struts, the bassist I believe, took a look at Glori and said, “Wait, she’s cute,” and came back inside to chat with us for a bit while the rest of their group was out front having a smoke. 

We found out that they were hanging out with Foo Fighters bassist, Nate Mendel, right before we caught up with them. Shoot! We just missed him!

I actually never got my selfie with the band and I’m cool with that. Asking for one might have changed the dynamic of the conversation. I’d much rather have this quirky story with my memory as proof (well, that and the really the drunken video I immediately recorded recounting the evening in case it was a blur the next day).  ;-)

Ever had a close encounter with a musician or artist you admire? Was meeting them in person a let down or all you had hoped? Would love to hear about it - feel free to share in the comments below!

* I later found out that Glori was stealing pulled pork sandwiches from the register area while I was with Luke and that is why she was acting so weird towards the end. Oh, and those pulled pork sandwiches that she stole? They were gross and made us sick. I threw up and she had stomach issues the entire next day. Guess thats what we get.

** The hug was awkward because Glori had the stolen pulled pork sandwiches under her shirt (don’t ask me why). She was apparently terrified they were going to fall when Luke went in for the hug.

Here are some pics from our trip!

When we first arrived at our hotel, we saw THIS!

And hoped and prayed it was the Foos (this was before the postponement announcement).
This actually turned out to be The Struts' bus. 

This dude, Kody, was awesome! 

He played in the band, Armors, that opened for Grizfolk, a dope ass band we saw at The High Wyatt. Here you get a glimpse at my "Bronx tough girl" earrings. (face palm)

Here with the lovely drummer from Grizfolk at the beginning of our eve, before the Struts encounter. Glori was totally crushin on him during the show.

Aside from the hot chicken, this was one of my fave parts of playing tourist -
Third Man Records. It's such a neat record store with all sorts of trinkets,
antique pieces, cool posters, recording booths and more.

I loved this cool skull at Third Man!

I thought this was an artsy photo at the time. Now, I just look like a dork.
Oh, Broadway...lol

She was by far my favorite singer in Nashville, Megan Ruger.
Megan was a recent contestant on The Voice and was super cool and genuinely bad-ass.

Until next time, Smashville, ahem, Nashville!