I swear to god, maybe it was a different piano which kidnapped the good piano and it's friends held it out back
for those special gigs- I will ascertain the tuning of said piano the next time I am in there. Which might be... October. I don't get out much these days.

I was a little tipsy the last time I was in there, like, 3 months ago, yet I can tell when a piano is in need, and, let me tell you, this thing was a hurtin' unit. The other theory would be that I am tone deaf (which I am pretty sure I am not) and that the great musicians of whom you speak were of such prowess and ability as to alter the space-time continuum and allow broken keys to fix themselves and bend the wires in such a way as to not sound like Sun-Ra on a bad day or a cat pinned inside the soundboard.

We shall get to the bottom of this! I shall hold extensive cross examination of all patrons and staff of the previous year... damn it's 3 am. I gotta get to bed.