Sneaky Pete

Young Peter McFee joined my band in the mid-1980s as a technician for my lead guitarist, Mal Eastick. Now, Mal was a fussy guitar player and I was fussy too. We only wanted to work with the best people. Mal and I couldn’t stand the sound of out-of-tune guitars, particularly if we were on the same stage as them. Then there was a chance that blood would be spilled, and I couldn’t stand the sight of blood either. Especially my own.

Peter came highly recommended by the last tech, who was leaving us. When I say ‘leaving us’, I mean we’d sacked him. So the recommendation didn’t mean that much really. But after the first few shows Peter had proved himself and got the job. I never heard anything go wrong, and Mal seemed to like him. He was going to work out fine. He was very nervous around me, but I knew he would settle down with time.

Soon after, I invited Peter up to my room with a few friends to celebrate his new job and he quickly accepted. I heard the doorbell as I was getting changed. Then he knocked on the door. Bang. Bang. Bang.

‘I’m coming. Hold your fucking horses. Who the fuck is that?’ I opened the door, scowling. It was Peter. He looked sheepish. He had obviously had a few drinks already.

‘Come in, mate. Take a seat. Relax. I’ll order up some room service. A couple of my mates are on their way over, so it’ll be fun.’

It was long after midnight and I’d already had a lot to drink too. In fact I had been drinking solidly since about 1973, but that’s another story. I was flying and thought I’d have a bit of fun with him.

‘Now listen, Peter. You’re new to the tour, so I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. You know that Mal, your boss, is the tightest man in the world, right? He still has the first dollar he ever earned and I doubt he will be spending it anytime soon. Not on this tour anyway.’ I looked Peter in the eye and kept a straight face the whole time.

‘Ah, er, no, I, ah, never knew that,’ he mumbled. ‘It’s not my job to know that, eh, is it?’

He was nervous. I could tell. I moved closer. He got more nervous.

‘It’s your job to know everything about your boss. To anticipate his every need and move.’

Peter just sat nodding. I backed away. He knew I was right. Of course I was right. It was my band.

‘So, here’s what we’re going to do. We are going to order a pile of drinks and we will sign them all to Mal’s room. You okay with that?’ I smiled warmly at him.

‘Er, yeah, I guess so.’ He laughed uncomfortably.

I knew he was worried, but I pressed on. ‘Come on, mate. It’s all good fun. We’re not going to kill anybody here.’

Peter regained a bit of his colour and agreed to my plan.

‘Now, since you are his tech, it will be so much funnier if you sign his name on the room service bill and pretend to be him. Okay? Anyway, the staff all know me, so you’ll have to do it.’

The colour drained from his face again. ‘I don’t know how he signs his name,’ he piped up.

‘That’s why we’re going to practise it before the drinks arrive,’ I said. I handed him a sheet of paper and told him to sign Mal’s name until he felt comfortable.

‘They won’t know what he writes like, so just get it so you don’t panic. Make it look like you are signing your name. No hesitating or any shit like that.’

Peter sat there, signing away. ‘Does this look right?’ he asked shyly.

‘Just keep doing it until room service gets here. They won’t suspect a thing.’

Peter kept signing ‘Mal Eastick’ over and over until the doorbell rang. In came the room service guy with a bottle of vodka, a bottle of whisky and a bucket of ice. I don’t remember how much the bill was, but it wasn’t cheap. They had charged by the nip, so it was probably ridiculously expensive.

‘Are you buying this lot, Mal?’ I said, nodding to Peter.

‘Er, em, what? Are you talking to me?’

I stared harder at him and lifted my eyebrows towards the waiter. ‘Ahem,’ I coughed. ‘Are you buying the drinks, young Mr Eastick? You can sign it to your room.’

Peter looked blank.

I grabbed him by the shoulder and whispered, ‘Sign the fucking bill, would you?’

He finally caught on. ‘Yes, let me put that on my room. You’re always buying the drinks, Jimmy. I’ve got this one.’

He was overacting, but he seemed to get away with it.

‘Leave a really big tip for this guy for being so quick,’ I said in an offhand way and then walked into the next room so I could laugh. I returned as the room service guy was leaving. Then I grabbed my list of all the rooms the band were staying in and found Mal’s number.

Peter was watching me, a little confused.

I went to the phone and picked it up.

‘Er, what are you doing, Jimmy?’

I looked up. ‘Just hang on a second, Peter, would you, please?’

I dialled a number as Peter watched anxiously. He looked like he had developed a slight twitch.

‘Better look busy, here comes the boss. Jimmy’s there too.’ (courtesy of Peter McFee)

‘Yeah, hello, Mal. Sorry to wake you like this. I know it’s late. But we were just having a few drinks.’

Peter tried to interrupt me. ‘Er, Jimmy, what are you doing?’

I waved him away. ‘Hang on, mate, I’m on the phone.’

I went back to my call. ‘Like I was saying, Mal, we ordered up a pile of drinks and you’ll never guess what happened.’

Peter was turning as white as the high-thread-count linen sheets on the hotel bed.

‘I went to the toilet and when I came out, I caught that sneaky little bastard who works for you – that’s right, Peter – signing the bill to your room.’

Peter was by this time diving for the phone, trying to cut me off, but I was way too quick. I spun around and kept talking. ‘You’re right, he is a sneaky little bastard and we will have to sort this out in the morning. I’ve thrown him out of my room. Sleep well, mate. Sneaky little fucker, eh?’

I hung up. Peter was dumbstruck. He couldn’t believe what I had just done. I was laughing so hard I nearly cried. Though he was visibly upset for hours afterwards, it didn’t stop him drinking. I guess he thought it was his last night, so he might as well make the most of it.

Of course, the next morning I spoke to Mal, confessed and paid the bill and the whole thing was put to bed. I was glad someone made it to bed, because we never did.

Anyway, the reason I’m telling this story is because Peter, ever since that day, has been known as Sneaky Pete. That was over thirty years ago, and these days Sneaky Pete is in demand everywhere. He runs some of the biggest festivals in the world, and tours constantly with Elton John. He even works with Cold Chisel. But everyone in the business still calls him Sneaky Pete. Even his mum.