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I have no problems putting any one in their place. From
you to Venue Manager.”
    He fish mouthed at me.
    “Now that that’s cleared up, you’re supposed
to be pulling out in an hour. Is there a problem? I presume that’s
why you’re not done yet.”
    He shook his head and if looks could kill I
would be on the ground in a pool of blood. “We’ll be done in time.
Instruments go with you. We’re not responsible for those.”
    “I’m aware you’re only responsible for
production.” I planted my feet and leaned in a little so I could
maintain direct eye contact. “I’ll handle the rest. Receipts for
crew meals need to be kept. Any money spent that I don’t get a
receipt for you don’t get reimbursed for. The same goes for
equipment. If something needs replaced, I need the receipt. Where’s
our drivers?” I made note on the phablet that the replaceable
discussion had been had.
    “With Charlie and Doug.” He gestured to the
other bus.
    I nodded. “Thanks.” I walked away before he
could fully process everything I told him. Once he digested I was
sure I’d hear about it.
    I approached the six men smoking. “Gentlemen.
I’m Bianca Sheridan, Tour Manager for this event.”
    “Nice to finally meet you,” the oldest of the
men, who looked about sixty, stuck his hand out. “Paulie. I drive
Roadster with Keith.” He jerked his head to the man that could be
mistaken for his son.
    “Pleased to meet you both.” I shook and
smiled at the others. “And you are?”
    “Doug.” Doug was probably Keith’s age and
looked ex-military by his haircut and build alone. “That’s Charlie.
We’ll be the chauffeurs for Bandwagon.”
    “Nice to meet you, Timekeeper.” Another man
old enough to be my father and looking a little like Travis Tritt
held out his hand. “Mitch. This is Frank.” He tipped his head to
the man who appeared almost ageless.
    I didn’t mind the name. I was the
Timekeeper and if Karma was kind, everything would stay on
schedule. “You’ve got my driving schedules then? Are there any
issues? I realize it was short notice.”
    “Everything looks good,” Doug nodded. “There
aren’t so many long runs in this tour that your schedule is
barbaric.”
    “Good. Gas receipts should be handed to me in
every city for the previous drive. I’ll keep them logged.”
    “It’s in your email.” Paulie smiled.
    “Stay this uptight and you’ll be burned out
in a week.” Mitch’s eyes glowed with humor. Yes, I was anally
organized and I knew some people took offense to that. I was glad
these guys seemed to find humor in it instead.
    I laughed. “This is me relaxed. You
don’t want to see me up tight.”
    Frank stomped out his cigarette when his
phone beeped. “Time to fire up the engines.”
    Doug and Charlie shook the hands of the other
guys before they meandered towards their transports. I checked off
meeting the drivers on my list of tasks as activity seemed to pick
up pace in the wake of diesel engines roaring to life.
    Jimmy was true to his word and Roadster and
the truck of stage equipment pulled away at exactly six. He hadn’t
said two words to me and as long as he did his job we didn’t need
to talk. I would watch and wait for now before making any decision
on the production manager.
    They should arrive in Seattle two hours ahead
of us to start staging. I would call the venue tomorrow and speak
to the manager with the concert details. I had a reminder in the
calendar for it.
    But right now I dialed a different number. I
needed to call our advance man and check in. He had left before I
could finagle time to meet him in person and since Roadster would
be arriving before the band at every venue it was unlikely I would
ever get a face to face introduction.
    The advance man was crucial to any tour. Not
only did he make sure the hotel was ready but he verified the venue
was ready for us as well. The success of any tour was whether or
not the advance man had any issues with the preset plans.