“Singing for Tips”
Chapter from Upcoming Untitled Memoir
CHAPTER 6:
“Singing for Tips”
AFTER HIGH SCHOOL I ATTEMPTED to do a few odd jobs. First, I tried temporary office work through Kelly Girl and other Job Placement agencies. I typed very fast (90 or so words a minute), so I figured I’d do alright.
I knew I could do these jobs, but the social part of answering a phone (UGH!), mingling with coworkers, interacting with clients and feeling OK in office clothes, was a challenge to me. I never could figure out why I didnt like office attire.
I just wasn’t good around people.
I was fired from almost every one of these short-term jobs —or i walked out. once i was let go for singing at my desk too loud (OooPSEeeeE!), once for daydreaming (not answering the phones with enough gusto and enthusiasm) and overall not.wanting to be there.
Once, I was told by a boss “Pack your things NOW. You are obviously not fit for this position”.
I knew that.
REALIZING I WASN’T CUT OUT for office work I took a job at one of my dad’s clothing stores for a while. He owned a a chain of ladies shops called the Collins Shops in a few shopping malls around the Denver area.
I was a pretty good sales person. I felt a competitive streak with my coworkers too. My dad ran Sales Incentive Contests for his employees. I always wanted to ‘win’ I noticed.
I had a determined spirit, maybe passed down from my champion athlete father.
WHEN I GOT HOME FROM working at the clothing stores my guitar was always there waiting for me on the bed, screaming “PLAY ME!”
I taught myself more and more songs, obsessively rehearsing almost every day after work — songs from: Judy Collins, Carole King, James Taylor, Simon & Garfunkle, Cat Stevens, Jim Croce, John Denver, The Eagles, Peter, Paul and Mary, Kenny Rogers, Linda Ronstadt to old classic Broadway Standards.
Rehearsing music was always fun for me and I built up a large diverse repertoire on the guitar.
At that time I had just rented a one-bedroom apartment on Cherry Street in a 2- story apartment building near Colorado Blvd. I had to scrape up enough money to pay the rent.
So, I decided to bravely try to find a singing job. It was the only thing I could think of doing that I felt I was pretty good at.
SINGING FOR MONEY!
SO, I WALKED INTO THE Continental Hotel lounge in Denver. They had a nifty lounge that was small and dark. I felt it might be a great place for me to sing. I walked right up to the front desk gal.
“I’d like to speak to the manager please...” For some reason I built up some confidence (not sure where it came from) about my singing ability. I just wanted a place to share my music!
“Is Mr. Miller expecting you?”
“No, but I’d like to talk to him please about singing in your lounge. I think my music would fit in perfectly!”
Damn. I’m persistent!
I got the job and started singing in the corner of the lounge at Happy Hour. The hours were 5 to 8 PM.
My first day I came to set up, Mr Miller told me “Go set up your equipment in the corner of the room up those stairs”. He pointed to an elevated area. “Make sure you are not in the way of any of the four big screen TV’s. (They played the Denver Broncos and other sports games on them). “Oh, and make sure you don’t block anyone’s view and keep your volume level low…”
I set up my two small speakers and an amp which I put next to my high backed stool up about 3 stairs. Then put my acoustic Yamaha guitar on the guitar stand. I did a quick ‘test’ test on the microphone and I was all set.
I THOUGHT I HAD arrived when I drove up for my first night of work and excitedly saw my name on the small marquee that faced out toward Speer Blvd. near Downtown Denver.
“MICHELLE MONET — NIGHTLY IN OUR LOUNGE — — HAPPY HOUR”.
I have an identity now, I thought.
Most nights I was the background ‘noise’ mainly to businessmen, dressed in 3-piece suits who’s faces were deep in their beers and cocktails. I suppose my soft singing didn’t disturb their chatting and business deals.
There was a buffet of Hors d’oeuvres laid out neatly on a long square table. Baby shrimps, finger sandwiches, chips, salsa and dips and a variety of tiny egg rolls.
Sometimes I even got great tips in the goldfish bowl I brought as my tip bowl. It was fun emptying out the tip bowl after each nights four-hour set.
Even though I was still insecure, I felt better when I began to sing. I felt an odd sense of peace when I sat on my stool taking requests, songs from Eagles to Sinatra, The Carpenters to Barry Manilow.
I wasn’t totally confident about lighting or sound, but hey I knew this was better than office work.
I recall people walking up as I was singing my heart out to grab their plates full of miniature hot dogs or nachos with little napkins.
‘Don’t they see that I’m sitting here singing?’
My first taste of showbiz and humility I suppose.
***
ONE NIGHT I NOTICED a distinguished African American man walk in to the lounge. He caught my eye with his presence. He was a tall gentleman with over sized stomach wearing a 3-piece light grey suit with lavender polka dotted tie. Oh, and a nifty matching polka dotted handkerchief in his lapel — and very shiny shoes!
He was so put together — a stately classy dude. He loooked authoritative but he also had an air of approachability and friendliness.
You know one of those people who just ooze self-respect and dignity? That was this guy.
He nodded at me with a big smile while he pulled out a chair at one of the front tables closest to me. I liked him instantly and was happy he took notice of me.
After I was done singing my 12 song set he walked up and put a $20 bill in my tip bowl! Damn. A $20!!?
‘You have a nice musical ear and a unique voice’.
He reminded me of Lou Rawle’s or Barry White, two popular singers of the time.
“Thank you!”
“”Do you happen to know any old classic songs by Ella Fitzgerald or Billie Holiday?”
“You can look through my play list of songs..(which was about 200.) I Handed him the list and he thumbed through it carefully.
“Ummm. How bout the standard The Nearness of You or Someone to Watch over me?”
So, after my break was over I sang both for him.
He grinned widely the entire time I was singing.
After my 2 songs he walked up holding a few more dollar bills and threw them in my tip bowl .
“Will you join me during your break? I’d like to chat with you”.
This was not a flirtation (I knew the difference!) but he seemed anxious to talk with me. He said he was in the Real Estate business and pulled out a business card from his wallet.
CHERRY CREEK REAL ESTATE BROKERAGE — ARCHIE EVANS JR., PRESIDENT
”I am also a poet and I have lots and lots of half written stuff here — I’d like to put some tunes with them. Maybe we could get together sometime?”
This was the beginning of our 7-year songwriting collaboration.
I RECALL THE FIRST TIME we got together at his house. I brought over my guitar and a loose leaf notebook. He pulled out his very organized book of single spaced poetry in a big brown folder — typed neatly and orderly — unlike my books of handwritten scribbled down lyrics!
We were an unlikely pair — A Jewish 20 something girl and a 40 something black man from the Motown generation — but we had a similar love for great music. It was obvious that we thought alike musically after he told me the songs he liked.
WE SPENT MANY NIGHTS, sometimes up until the sunrise, oozing new song ideas out of us, over pots and pots of coffee. We were proud when we had a new song completed with the new days sun!
Sometimes we’d work late into the evening. He would sing me a quick ditty in a bit of an off-key voice and I attempted to put chord progressions with his words, until we both mutually agreed, “YEP that’s… IT!!”
We both seemed to know precisely when a song was finished. Then he’d pour the Chablis to celebrate.
Over the years we wrote over 60 songs together, from pop ballads to corny standards to bluesy songs to disco songs.
It was fun and inspiring to have someone to feed off instead of the years of composing music alone. Creative energy is always life affirming.
He also helped me put together my first band and became the bands manager and Musical Director. He and I also ended up in a 2 year relationship.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Footnote- I found out Archie died about 17 years ago but I’ll never forget his inspiration and creative energy. It helped mold me into the musician I later became.
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