Mickey procured a couple of passes to the RockNResort at Clay’s Park and Resort so we descended upon the proceedings. First was the almost toxic Road Pop which tested all our sensibilities but served the great purpose of getting us buzzed.
Second was parking in a cow pasture and plotting to hijack the nearby home’s hot tub.
Third was wishing I had brought the flash cuz they didn’t search me on my in!
Fourth was the purchase of ‘drink tickets’ – 7 for $20 – then deciding to go with rot-gut well liquor drinks cuz they were 1 ticket instead of 2.
Fifth, Kimmie reading the list of items for sale at the ‘bar’ while we were in line, saying “Medicine, condoms and lighter fluid..” to which some woman replied, “What more do you need?”
Sixth – many, many hair, fat, sweaty, tatooed men sans shirts. Good thing we were drinking. Oh, and the women weren’t much better. My oldest sister and her hubby own a Harley and traverse to Sturgis every year and I swear I kept waiting for them to show up!
Seven. Being concerned about ‘panty peek’ but not giving a single thought to the fact half my tatoo was showing.
Eight. Flinging abandoned panties at Kimmie while she is indisposed in the ladies room.
Nine. Being totally drunk and stranded in the pizza vendor line only to have Kimmie proclaim, “I want nachos!”
Mickey and me, “I don’t think there are any.”
Kimmie, “I just saw a guy put cheese on chips.”
Kimmie scurries off only to return a short time later with two dishes of nachos, complete with cheese and jalapenos.
The guy behind us says, “Hey, where’d you get the nachos?”
Because we now have our mouths full, we point. In his best Tommy Chong impression, the guy replies, “Cool.” and rambles off.
Ten. Hoarking the giant fan in the Melody Barn while scarfing our nachos and pizza.
And the big highlight – sitting on a hillside in the pitch darkness while Kansas sings “Carry On My Wayward Son” and “Dust in the Wind”. Say what you want, but for a Rocker Girl, that is something I can cross off my list “To Do Before I Die” list. Fan-fucking-tastic.
I gotta tell ya though, my hangover the next day was probably the worst I’ve had ever. It reminded me why I don’t drink cheap booze. Wretched.