In the spring of 2007 Leland called me at work. “Do you have any interest in taking a road trip to Oklahoma?” he asked.
“Not really,” I said.
“How bout if we were going to see White Lion in concert?” he asked.
I almost didn’t believe him, but sure as shit, White Lion was playing at Rocklahoma, an 80’s hair band/cock rock music festival. I am fairly certain we bought our 3 day passes that night.
We love White Lion and actually give them a little credit for us being together.
In July, we packed the car and road tripped to the concert. We brought all the essentials: clothes, sunscreen and the beer bong.
The festival was in this big field, with tents of merchandise, food and beer set up all around the perimeter. It was HOT. So I did the only smart thing: I started drinking excessive amounts of Miller Chill, even though I thought it was sort of gross.
We were outside for the entire day, switching off between watching a band, drinking beer and doing shots in the alcohol tents, and heading back to the parking lot to make some friends and do beer bongs with total strangers.
I had no idea how drunk I was.
I vaguely remember taking drunken photos with random people.
I sort of recall laying on the grass by my car and taking a nap.
There are hazy images of Leland sticking his fingers down my throat to make me throw up.
I think I even remember some guys seeing Leland trying to make me vomit and commenting on how it was sort of a weird form of porn.
But I had no idea how drunk I was until the following morning. When I was going through my pockets to see how much cash I had left, I found a signed consent form from the Howard Stern film crew. Apparently I gave them permission to use footage of my breasts for their TV show, along with the drunken interview I gave them. The topless, drunken interview I gave them.
Apparently I didn’t learn my lesson after drunkenly signing a consent form for Girls Gone Wild. That story will be coming later.