Robin Williams used to play runs of shows at Bimbo’s 365 Club in North Beach. Back in 2003, these shows were announced with short notice, and tickets were only available with cash at the box office. In order to get the seats, you had to wait in line for a very long time. Also, the ticket revenue went straight to local charities, and not to Robin himself.
When these shows were announced, I was unemployed and always looking for a way to make a little extra money. I got some cash together — enough to buy 8 tickets to the shows — and convinced my roommate Loren to wait in line with me all night to buy tickets. Because there was a Saturday night show, we’d get Saturday night tickets, then get back in line and buy tickets for the first show of the run, which was the Monday listed on the ticket. This would be the one we’d attend and we’d sell the Saturday night tickets to pay our rent.
The plan worked perfectly. After beer and Indian food at Kennedy’s, we got in line and stayed in it all night. We were the first ones to the window, bought 4 Saturday tickets, got back in line for another 2 hours and got Monday tickets. Then I went on Craigslist and sold the 4 tickets to Saturday’s show for $500. I kept $400 of this and gave the other $100 to the same charity Robin was collecting for. So I doubled my charitable contribution, but also doubled my original investment. Everybody wins?
The day of the show, I decided I needed to be first in line again, so I got there super early. My high school friend John, now living in Mountain View, came, along with Loren. Our fourth person canceled on us, and this was before the social media revolution, and our attempts to find a last minute replacement were fruitless. I went on Craigslist and posted that we would take the best non-cash offer that called me. I put my phone number in the post, and also said not to offer me Warriors tickets, as this was a common trade offer back in 2003. (The Warriors were not good in 2003, and no one ever wanted those tickets.)
I got a few phone calls offering me cash which I immediately rejected for not having read my post. I got some offering me weed; none offering me sex. The offer we ended up choosing was from an Oakland fireman who insisted on paying face value for the ticket, plus an Oakland Fire t-shirt for everyone in my party, and the drinks are on him.
He showed up to meet us, and we went inside, getting the very front row center table, which had enough room for six, even though we were only four. He said, “Hold on, I’ll get some ladies.” And he did. He definitely grabbed ladies that were his type, not mine, but no matter, as we all had a great time together, even before Robin came out to do his set.
When Robin finally came out, he moved through his planned material like a man possessed, but that was the boring part, for after he ran out of his planned jokes, he went into ad-lib mode for the next 1–2 hours. From the front row, you could see his sweat, see his mind working, see every thought pass across his face as he worked hard to entertain us. He was a genius, and was still at the top of his game on this night, which would be the only time I would ever see him do a full set.
Late in the show, he decided he needed to change his shirt. One of the women at my table stood up and yelled “I’ll take your old shirt!” Then the suggestion of an auction of the shirt came from someone else, with the proceeds going to charity. That’s what happened. Our tablemate did not win the auction (I think it went for nearly a thousand bucks.) The shirt he ended up wearing instead was an Oakland Fire t-shirt tossed to him by our fireman. I think it was John’s shirt. I don’t know if John ever got one.
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