After sitting through eight excruciatingly long hours of work (missing Wild Belle, Twenty One Pilots, The Head and the Heart and Band of Horses..) I sped my way over to the BART station to start my journey to Outside Lands in hopes of making it in time for the finale, Sir Paul McCartney of a little band I like to call The Beatles. If you haven’t heard of them, slap yourself across the face and then go educate yourself.
When I got to the train station, there was a line going out to the parking lot of shwasted Raiders fans who had clearly never used public transportation before and since I wasn’t about to waste time doing silly things like emptying my bladder or feeding myself dinner, I may have had a little bit of hangry rage building up inside of me. I even had my ticket ready except it only had a dollar on it.. (womp, womp). So I waited. And waited. And even explained the entire process to a lovely lesbian couple who just did not understand why they both couldn’t use the same ticket. While they discussed it, my Kensie Smash countdown started and luckily they moved before I had to tear the place down in the name of Helter Skelter.
Then I convinced myself to calm the eff down because my crazy wasn’t going to make the train go faster, but in order to do this I obsessively played with my phone that obviously hadn’t been charged all day, making its already short life span dwindle faster than usual. It’s also important to note that all my friends (and by “all” I mean the three people I know in California) were already drinking snuck-in whiskey and singing along to all the bands at this point.
So I finally arrived at the stop that Google Maps told me to go to and I somehow managed to follow the little blue dot to a bus stop and hopped on, feeling like a champ. Hung out on there obsessively checking the streets I was supposed to get off on and pulled the request stop button as soon as I heard one of them. Got off to realize that my stop was about 12 streets down. I considered just running and remembered I had a huge backpack containing all my living essentials for the weekend on my back in addition to a giant purse on my shoulder, so I waited 15 minutes for the next bus all the while imagining Paul finishing his set without giving me so much as a “I Wanna Hold Your Hand.”
I arrive at my stop and followed the blue dot for three quarters of a mile into the woods where I decided to follow the crowds instead. Turns out a lot of people who don’t have tickets just get loaded and walk in massive crowds to dead-ends to watch from the outside, so I proceeded to walk to three different dead-ends before finding the entrance, at which point my phone was on its death bed and my bladder was on the brink of spontaneous combustion (those body guards who patted me down are lucky I didn’t give them a golden shower). So as I made my way in and started to hear Paul’s glorious voice, I made the responsible decision to pay a visit to the port-a-potties (which have been in full force since about 11am and it’s now about 8pm) at which point I was riding the struggle bus pretty hard.
Not only does one never want to have to use a port-a-potty, but one must never touch anything inside a port-a-potty, right? So here I am, in the port-a-potty, trembling over the seat trying to pee straight while holding up my jacket, my about-to-pop backpack AND giant purse while not falling face first into a pile of poop and vomit all the while hearing, “Blackbird singin’ in the dead of night.” And you know that unfortunate anatomical truth about how the longer you hold your pee, the longer it takes to get it all out? Yea, I’m pretty sure my thighs are still sore from this ordeal.
Finally I got out and made my way to the stage where I was certain my phone was going to die and I was never to find my friends. I started rationalizing it in my mind, like, “There’s food and water all over the place; I have several jackets in my backpack; there’s a lake I could bathe in; I’ve slept in grass before; I can totally camp here..”
And then miraculously, about an hour later, I found my amigos and proceeded to drink all the whiskey and moved on to the rum. From there it was all Paul McCartney singing to my soul, dancing, jumping, squealing, crying and fireworks lighting up the sky.
I SAW PAUL MCCARTNEY AT BONNAROO. He put on an AMAZING show and played an hour longer than he was supposed to! One of the best experiences of my life 🙂
Michelle @ Mishfish13
what an experience! I bet he was amazing. Although is it wrong that I would maybe be more excited to see Band of Horses? don't hate me
but you made it!!!!! and you didn't pee on anyone. go you 🙂
Awesome! Did he do Band On The Run? I love that one.
Whew! Glad you finally made it!
I saw Paul at Bonnaroo, as well. It was life-changing. I didn't know how much I was missing until I experienced it.
Totally excellent adventure.