By Michael White
It was January 23, 1984. We were playing at a night club called Craig's in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. It was always a good area for us. We usually had large crowds no matter where we played in Wisconsin. I used to love playing there.
Although this was the first time we ever played at this club, we still had a great turn out. About 400 people packed inside and were rocking hard until closing. The bar made lots of money that night. The owner, Craig, was a steroid popping body builder of a guy. He was, in fact HUGE. He also, as I observed , suffered from wild mood swings from the little bit that I saw of him that night.
After the show was over I went looking for him so I could get paid. My wife (at that time), was sitting at the bar having some drinks with guitarist Phil Bolene's girlfriend. As I approached Craig, he turned toward me and screamed at me, "Get these - insert profanity - out of here!". I was shocked and asked him to calm down and explain to me what he was talking about. At that point he pushed me and I flew off the ground and landed against a wall. I was no small man by any means weighing about 220 lbs. at the time. He came at me and I said, "I just wanna get paid, dude!" He yelled at me "You'll be lucky if I pay you!" I grabbed the girls, bit my lip and turned away fast and went out to our motorhome to regain my composure.
This guy was way too big to fight, and in fact I sensed that he wanted to fight me so he could get out of paying me for the show. I sat back and thought it over while in the comfort of our 33 foot Southwind Motorhome that was parked just inches from the back load-in door of the club. We sat and watched TV for a while and I asked if there was a reason he was so upset. The girls told me that he had been hitting on them all night and they had been doing their best to ignore him. At last it came to me... revenge.
After about 45 minutes when all but staff had finally left the club, I walked slowly back inside. I approached Craig as he sat at the bar bragging about what had transpired earlier. I heard him telling all that were listening how he threw me against the wall. I asked if I could get paid for the show. He just smirked and said, "Sure, why not?" As he marched me downstairs to the office in the basement he lectured me as to how the girls and I were out of line and it was his club and blah, blah, blah.
After re-counting the money he paid me I thanked him and walked upstairs and out to the motorhome. I made sure everyone was inside and ready to go. I started the engine and let it warm-up while I stepped outside the door. I went to the rear of the vehicle and pulled a long tube out of the rear bumper storage compartment. I hooked one end of it up to the sewage storage tank and the other end I tucked inside the back door of the club.
I should at this time let you know that our sewage was full at the time (at least 50 gallons) and in dire need of flushing out. I took a look around and then with a pull of the release valve I had ultimate satisfaction and filled Craig's bar with our rancid sewage. The smell was horrific. I quickly closed the release valve, stashed the hose back in the storage and jumped in the drivers seat. As I threw the rig in gear at hit the gas, I heard a scrapping sound coming from our roof. It was then that I realized out TV antennae had just been ripped from our roof by the telephone pole cables that went into the club near the back door. Oh well, I thought if Craig can be without phone service and have to sump pump his club I guess we can buy another TV antennae. Off we went down the road to the next gig hundreds of miles from Wisconsin.
The next day I called in to check with my manager Tim Heyne and he was freaking on the phone. "What did you do to that guy!?!", he asked. "Craig wants to know where you're playing so he can hunt you down and kill you!" I laughed and laughed! I told Tim what had happened and he laughed with me. Well, Craig never caught me, I'm still alive and he's probably still a jerk. I'm thinkin' somebody must've busted a cap in his ass by now.