Okay, so the mini-me dream of mine was a flop. I was still very much determined, but Amber told me that she was pretty sure the midget girl could kick my ass if I approached her again. I knew by the end of the night, the "Bride of Chucky" would change her mind. Everyone likes me. It was my goal of that night to find her again. So, after the topic of the little person was finally dropped, Amber and I headed off to meet up with a band that hooked us up with the passes. This band is pretty well known in the rock world. You've probably heard their music played on the jukebox by some burly looking biker who has a mom tattoo on his chest. I dug their music and was pretty pumped to party it up with them.
On the way to their tourbus, I saw a man riding a bicycle. I took a double take, hoping and praying it was Pee-Wee Herman. (I'm determined to meet him once in my life. I'll explain that reasoning over lunch as well.) As he got closer to us I realized it was a guy who is often on the cover of guitar magazines at the grocery store. I didn't say anything to him though. I'm kind of weird when it comes to stuff like that. I hardly ever ask for photos from famous people I'm around, never ask for their autographs, and don't approach them if they're doing something else. Honestly, I think that's why Amber and I get asked back to hang with so many different bands. We treat them like, well, normal people. But, these normal people just happen to be known by more people, have twelve cars, and can buy an island if they wanted to.
So, I glanced at him and continued on walking to our destination. He pedaled faster towards us and gave us an exaggerated nod.
Now, you may wonder why he was on a bicycle. I've often wondered that, too. Surprisingly he's not the first rock star who has done this. I've come across four other rockers who pedal around the back of the venue. Drinking and cycling is cooler than drinking and driving...Yeah, you can quote me on that. :-)
We finally found the bus we were looking for and there was tons of people already partying it up. The bus had a strong smell of alcohol, weed, and some really weird fishy smell. Hello, Sea World.
I looked at Amber after we gave hugs and kisses to all the guys from the band and asked her "WTF is that smell?" She told me to be quiet and it was probably my upper lip. Did I ever tell you that Amber is a smartass?
After a while of talking small talk with some of the guys, Amber went off with the drummer to go and watch another band perform from the backstage area. So, I stayed on the bus.
One thing about Amber and me is we're never stuck to the hip when we do our "groupie" thing. We do our own thing and usually meet up in the very end. It's nice to be able to do that and know that I don't have to worry about her and vice versa. Independent girls for the win!
So, there I am, the only chick on the bus with five other guys. I was used to this ratio. It wasn't a big deal, it just felt like I was at a truck stop and I could thankfully keep up with the best of them.
While trying to have a thumb war with the bass player, we were interrupted by the band's manager, Tom.
"Hey, Hotto. I got a text from Ralph. He said you should come visit him after you're done hanging with us."
"...So, Ralph can text and ride his bicycle? Impressive" I responded.
After the band had a roast on Ralph, telling me every reason on why he's crazy, they all agreed that I should talk with him for awhile to find out for myself.
"Be nice to him. If you are your usual sassy self, he'll want you like mad crazy" Tom said.
...Ugh. Do you know how hard fake nice is? Almost as bad as pretending to be sober when you're drunk. It's not easy. But, a lot of politicians do it. So, I figured I would take a stab at it.
The guys soon turned the conversation to what movie they wanted to watch while getting stoned. I was still occupied with the awful smell on the bus. I mean, I knew a bunch of dudes lived on there, but fish?! Something was off. So, I just asked: "Dude! Who let the animals from Sea World in here?"
The whole bus erupted with laughter.
"Oh my god! If she was on this bus, she'd kick your ass for saying that" Tom stated while holding his stomach from laughing so much.
"Ugh, you guys need to make whoever she is, have a mandatory douche session before she comes back on this bus. Gross."
My stomach couldn't take the smell anymore, so I got off the bus and decided to take a walk and explore the world of rock and roll...and there was Ralph with his bicycle waiting outside the bus for me.
"Hey, I'm Ralph."
"Hotto." I continued on walking
Ralph pedaled fast to catch up. "So, I've seen you on myspace. You've hung out with a lot of my buddies from other bands."
"Mhmm" I continued on walking.
"I was heading over to my tour bus for a drink. Would you want to give me company?"
...I was tired of walking in my 6 inch heels, so I agreed.
Before I continue, I have to explain something about Ralph. When he talks he swings his head from side to side, in a weird rhythmic matter. Like he hears music that isn't playing. And he also drags his last word out. It's really annoying. So, bear with me as I try to type like how he talks.
As we stepped on the bus, it was only him and me. My first thought was "Pee Wee junior better not try anything. I may love to party, but I have standards."
After he took a few shots of Crown, he sat next to me and stared at my feet.
Silence filled the bus.
"Those are some nice shoeesssss."
"Thanks, I'm pretty sure they have a pair in your size at Macy's if you tried hard enough to find them."
...I was pissed at myself for the sassy comment and reminded myself about being nice to him.
He continued on staring at my feet. I looked up at the ceiling, then at him, then at my feet he was staring at.
Silence.
"Well, I should probably get going. I have to find this girl."
"Why do you have to go so soooooon? What girllllllll?"
"Oh, she's pretty much going to be my new best friend, she just doesn't know it yet."
He ignored my comment and continued on making sexy eyes at my feet.
"So, those are some nice shoesssssssss."
....Yeah, you said that already.
"Would you mind if I painted themmmmmmm?" he asked.
So, he thinks he's a Bob Ross? Wanting to get his fingerpaints out and paint my shoes? Umm, no. I didn't even have to think about it. No was the answer.
"Can't you find a notebook or wall to paint on? You artists usually have canvas' handy, right?"
It was silent. Again.
"I'm not talking about real paint. Just let me paint your shoes, please."
...I sat there and tried to put two and two together. Not real paint? Paint shoes? He's been giving sexy eyes to my feet since I stepped foot on the bus.
And then he started unzipping his paints.
I jumped up quicker than that guy Jack who lives in a box. "Ohhh no. You are not...doing...uh, jizzing on my shoes. Where I come from you just don't do that on purpose...maybe by accident...but...and we don't call it painting we call it...well, we call it...ya know...and we PAINT with a paintbrush here in america and colorful paints."
"Please. I'll give you a thousand dollars to do it."
...As Meatloaf once said "I'll do anything for love, but I won't do that"...Well listen to my quote of life "I'll do almost anything for money, but I won't let you paint on my heels." Yes, you can quote me on that, too.
I responded with "Gross." Sometimes I'm a woman of few words.
"Come onnnnnnnnn! Hustler will tape it and you'll be famous."
...My family would be so proud.
I simply walked off the bus and continued on my journey to find my potential mini-me...
...I lied, there's a part 3. This is only half of the story.
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