How Not To Be A Groupie

Chapter Four: Backstage

I was just about to tell the man giving them out that I hadn't paid for this when he was gone. What the hell was happening? I travel back in time to exactly where my favorite band is playing a show, alive and well, and I get handed a backstage pass for free? I almost started laughing from how random this all was. I wasn't complaining. But why were they giving these away for free? And why didn't they just hand them out to anybody? Or hold a contest?

The realization hit me like a slap in the face. 

Oh...

I wasn't exactly dressed like a nun for this concert and I was apparently not too young to be let in. Knowing good and well what the rock and roll scene entailed, I was shaking in my sneakers. Snooping around for...participants, I see...I'll show them...

My fingers ached from gripping the pass tightly. I couldn't drop it. This was my chance to see them in person! A whole foot away! I may not be able to supply them with what they want but I can still get what I want. 

A good story. A good, real, truthful story. Experience.

After the show ended most of the crowd either left or went to the bar for a drink. I still didn't see Marie or her friends anywhere but I couldn't imagine they had been given backstage passes, they simply looked too young. The band had left behind a curtain but nobody else was getting in that way. They were slipping around to the back of the bar and slithering around the corner where the beer and cigarettes were. I smiled deviously. I could slither too.

I am after all, a groupie. 

Strutting casually toward the backstage entrance I coughed on the smoke. Peering around the corner I saw a good handful of people sitting around and talking over cigarettes and beer. It was a lot quieter down here than it was among the crowds of people in the bar. My ears were still ringing a bit from the concert and I suddenly remembered why I don't frequent concerts. I held my pass up where anybody could see it in case some security guard tried to throw me out. 

All I saw were men in black t-shirts with AC/DC written on the back and lanyards around their necks. There were a couple of other guys there, probably concert goers as they wore regular clothes. There were a few nicely dressed women too, a couple of them in homemade t-shirts with the band member's names written across the chest.

The band themselves were nowhere to be seen. I dared to venture further backstage, hoping I wasn't drawing any suspicion. But why should I? I paid for my ticket, I had a free pass in my hand. If I was correct in my theory, the band wanted to see me. A few other lucky people had passes similar to mine. Others had regular passes hanging around their necks. 

A couple of young boys were launching spit balls from straws at each other. There was a young girl with them who smoked a cigarette and rolled her eyes at their behavior. I took in my surroundings. I had never been backstage before anywhere and I wanted details for my story. 

There were huge stacks of crates that carried equipment and instruments all over the place. Dirty towels that used to be white littered the floor soaked with sweat. Cups, cans, bottles, ash trays, cigarette butts, and even a sock took up the rest of the space. It wasn't really its own room, it was only separated by a curtain from the rest of the bar. But it felt closed off. Nothing fancy, but cozy. Hardly any place to sit except maybe a few chairs. I wasn't looking for a place to sit. I was looking for a band to write about. 

"You lost?" I whirled around to see one of those men in the black t-shirts holding a pile of wires resembling spaghetti. He had very long hair and frighteningly blue eyes. 

A roadie...

I quickly held up my pass and stood my ground. "No, I know where I am," I said. 

He nodded upon getting a good look at my pass. "Oh, you're one of the lucky ones," he said. "Well, band's that way if you wanna talk to them." He walked off with the wires and crammed them all in a large black crate. I looked in the direction he mentioned and heard voices. Some female, mostly male. A bit of laughter and a sneeze. I froze on the spot.