On the Road with Jersey Line: The confessions of a Wardrobe Assistant

The End of the Tour

I stood quietly at the back of the room, drink in hand, as the closing party for the New Beginnings Tour went on around me. Jersey Line had closed the year as the top grossing rock band of 2012. 

For the past 15 years, I have been the bands Costume assistant, moving quickly from apprentice to Lead, keeping 5 musicians from New Jersey looking sharp onstage and off. My partnership with the band led me into a romantic partnership with Ronny Sampson, their tall, dark and devastatingly handsome lead guitarist.

The New Beginnings tour got off to a rocky start, there were tensions brewing among the band members, which led to Ronny leaving abruptly 3 months into the tour.  His reason for leaving centered around his 17 year old daughter Anna, whom he shared with his ex wife, Actress Hailey Westin.

Anna grew up without her dad because he was always on tour with Jersey Line. But in spite of his absence, she was still daddy's girl. He and Hailey divorced when she was very young, so she split her time between their two homes.

She was now a senior in high school and she needed her dad. He had taken so many tearful phone calls from her at the start of the tour, and he would take several red eye flights back to LA to be there for her. But lately she was not getting along with her mom. He tried to remedy the situation by flying his mom to LA to stay with her at his home, but she got ill and was unable to take on the burden of caring for a 17 year old child.

So when Ronny first left the tour, it was mainly to care for Anna and his mom. Family always came first for Ronny, and he loved Anna and his mom with all of his heart.

Although I really wanted to leave the tour with Ronny, I realized he needed this time with his daughter. It was also impossible for me to break my contract. So I stayed on until the bitter end. My plan was to tender my resignation as soon as possible, before the band began the European leg of the tour.

As I stood at the party, nursing my club soda and lime,  Joey's wife Donna swooped down on me. She was dressed to the nines in a sheer black lace mini dress with a long black vest with fringe that dusted the top of her black leather boots. Her blonde hair brushed my cheek as she leaned in for air kisses. She reeked of Poison and Bourbon. She grabbed my arm and loudly whispered in my ear "you need to join the party Liza, and for God's sake, get a real drink!"

As I started to follow her into the main room, I was stopped by Dick West, whose curly blonde mane fell into his eyes as he grabbed my hands. ". . . And here's to Liza! This young lady is the reason our costumes don't stink up the stage!" The crowd let out a cheer and I smiled, hugged a few co-workers in passing, and headed towards the exit.

In the hallway, I saw Joey in a deep conversation with Peter Wesson, the guitarist from London who had stepped into Ronny's shoes for the rest of the tour. He was every inch a rockstar from his long dark mane of hair, flashing green eyes and tattoos on his long muscular arms. He was wearing a brown leather vest and skin tight jeans and brown snakeskin boots. He smiled as I walked by. "Leaving so soon, Luv?" He asked, while reaching his arm out for a quick hug. I obliged with a quick hug in return. "just for a minute, for a phone call." I said with a smile. Joey stood silent as I passed him by. He and Donna looked like the Toxic Twins, him in a similar sheer black lace shirt open to the waist, chest covered in layers of silver chains, black skin tight leather pants and fringed black suede boots. A bandana was keeping his wild curly hair out of his face. We stood in awkward silence as I waited for the elevator. I couldn't wait to get to my room to call Ronny.

Once inside the solitude of my suite, I called Ronny's cell. It rang a few times, then I heard someone answer. It was a breathless female voice. "Hello . . . Hello?" In shock, I ended the call. I stared at my phone in disbelief. "What the fuck?" I exclaimed. I checked the number then dialed again. This time the call went straight to his voicemail, which was full. I tried his landline, and there was no answer. I sat on the edge of the bed in disbelief. "What are you up to, Ronny?" I asked quietly.

Suddenly all of the stress of the past year crashed in on me. I couldn't breathe and my body began to shake as loud angry sobs came pouring out of me. Downstairs the party was in full swing. But in my room, I no longer felt any desire to join them. I missed Ronny, and I just wanted to go home.