Lotus S.
Google
⭐ Mixed Feelings, but the Truth Matters
I came into this experience with high hopes—it was festival time, and I expected a vibrant crowd and great energy. Instead, it was just a regular porch gig with a few families eating fries. But that’s fine. I still did what I always do: I showed up, gave my all, and engaged anyone who would listen. The staff initially seemed kind—they offered me a beer and something small to eat. That went a long way. But what happened next erased the good will.
I had just finished playing and was sitting quietly behind the stage area to rest and eat, after performing at two gigs that day and fighting to keep busted gear working. I told the owner I needed a few minutes to decompress alone. Instead, I was told—rudely—to move so they could shoot some fake videos. No heads-up, no respect. Just “move.”
Let me make this clear: I wasn’t in the way. I wasn’t causing trouble. I was simply trying to take care of myself after giving everything I had for their guests. And when I asked if my 80-pound dog could have a little food to stay calm while I played, I was given a single slice of bacon. That’s not compassion—that’s a gesture made for optics.
Their response to my original review is the kind of passive-aggressive gaslighting that proves my point: when someone like me—who's lived on talent, hustle, and decades of marketing and performance experience—tells you what they need and what they experienced, you listen. You don’t dismiss it, spin it, or play victim. You listen.
I’ve worked with real crowds, real clients, real engagement. I've made a living reading people, not protecting my ego. The truth is, this is just a glorified Chuck E. Cheese porch in a small-town theme park. And that's fine. Just don’t pretend you’re running the Apollo when you can’t even show a shred of basic respect to a performer or their needs.
This is my review, unfiltered. You don’t have to agree with me. You just have to respect that this is my experience. And that’s something you don’t get to rewrite