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Dispatches From Festivals: Rock 'N' Roll, Beer, -- And No Sex 

Wednesday, Mar 2 2016
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"Every October, ghouls and gals flock to Southern California for the festival known as Beach Goth, where many of the biggest names in indie music — think Grimes, The Growlers, and Die Antwoord — play. Because of the timing of the festival (the week before Halloween) people dress in Halloween costumes with no discretion, be it raunchy or just plain unoriginal. At some points, I swear it looked like a Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction convention.

I attended for my first time last year and was especially tickled when I found out the band of an old 'friend' of mine was playing at the event. I sent him a Facebook message telling him I was going and suggesting that we meet up. Mind you, I'm not one to bust a Penny Lane on the regular, but knowing his band was one of the more popular acts performing, I figured it'd be worth a shot. He immediately responded and we exchanged numbers so we could meet up.

The day of the festival approached and I waited all day to hear from him. Just as all hope was about to diminish, I got hit with that hotline bling, 'Let's meet up after the set.' Yasss! I was in! I watched him and his band perform in front of what seemed to be a billion people, before scurrying backstage the moment they played their last song.

I've been backstage at shows before, but never have I seen so much beer. I mean six-packs on six-packs on six-packs. And the best part? It was FREE. To ease my nerves, look cool, and quench my thirst while waiting for him, I gulped down a beer. Or two. Or three. Who knows? I waited a while. By the time we actually met up, needless to say, I was completely inebriated.

Was our encounter awkward? Maybe. But I can't remember. All I know was that he was cute, I was wearing a low-cut shirt, and there was an empty trailer full of more free (!) booze waiting for us behind the stage. Before I could even crack open another cold one, we were making out and clothes were flying.

Apparently, word got around that the trailer was full of booze and just as I was half naked and on top, the door busted wide open and in barged a horde of thirsty musicians. We could have been punk rock about it and continued with our romp, but, alas, we both got dressed and joined the after party that had formed in our formerly-private quarters. I got more drunk, but alas, never got that happy ending that I had been looking forward to."


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About The Author

Paige Vreede

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