An overly-eager artist being welcomed into the industry is taken on a bumpy ride as she learns life does not have as many sunny days as she thought. Within the process, she comes to learn that her tour guide is a lot more important to her than she e...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
March 3, 1986 Minneapolis, Minnesota
First Avenue & 7th Entry.
The club may be referred to as First Avenue but it's located on a corner spot right off of First Avenue and 7th Entry. I'd mostly only heard of the place until I was in Minnesota. The drive between Chanhassen and Minneapolis was nothing.
I toured Europe up and down, throwing a quick three spot dates in Asia, until I was allowed to come back to my native country. Coming home was an absurd experience because I didn't fly back into Chicago through O'Hare like I was used to. Uncle Dorian flew back to Minnesota with me and then he jumped right back on another flight to go back to Illinois. It felt surreal for a moment. My rest time after was as short lived as my patience with Omar's annoying cousins. I was back in rehearsals with Prince before I knew it.
Laughter ruining the chance of sincerity in my scream, I wrap both hands around the microphone as I stand in the center of the stage. "Stop being a damn pussy!" I saw Gilbert bent over in his seat laughing as Prince fully entered my eye view.
Prince held his hands to his chin as if he were thinking over my insult, standing at the edge of the stage in front of me. "Pussy?" I stood my ground on my joke but I sensed Prince's witty tongue tapping his teeth in preparation of a snazzy comeback. "What they say? You are what you eat, right?" He laughs, "I can let that one slide."
"Ain't that right," Wally, said from behind him with a nodding cranium.
My eyes shot him darts for encouraging the freak show called a conversation with Prince. Too often did Wally encourage Prince's antics and I always took that as being due to the fact that Prince kept Wally employed at all times. He started as a friend who became security and when he did good enough on stage during I Would Die 4 U's jams, he got boosted to a full time role on stage.
I scoffed, dropping the microphone from to fold my arms across my chest. "Oh, please."
Prince continued on will his bull the moment he saw my annoyance. He dropped his hand as he grinned up at me from the side of the stage, leaning on a light. "No, I don't think a vagina is the best way to describe me. I mean even if you want to take it there... I'm not a cat, Lyric, but them claws you trying to hide in them shoes must mean you in the family," he said as he tapped on my flat.
My fist balled up beneath my arms as I flinched at Prince, my foot kicking back in preparation to kick him though its nothing more than a threat. "If you don't get the fuck away from me," I gritted down at him. His wiggling eyebrows sent me into overdrive. "Prince!" The laugh that exited surely was accidental. As he walking over to the microphone next to me, I screamed in a fit of playful at frustration, "Somebody shoot me now!"
At the time, we were only about one or two weeks into full rehearsals and Prince wanted a test gig to see how the setlist went. The band was rusty in his opinion but I know I wasn't. Nonetheless, I still planned to tag along for the show. The fact that I'd be joining them remains a secret. It was something like a surprise. Half of the shows that I co-headline don't have me listed, they're more than likely going to say Prince & The Revolution... with Special Guest. All of the shows in the states were spot dates for the sake of tightening the show. The real killer was going to be Europe and Asia.
