Phish - North Charleston, SC 10/15-16

South Carolina state flag

With my impending move date growing closer, I had to notch off another state and venue to see Phish before moving far away from their most frequently played cities.

I have never been a fan of the south. Not without reason, though. I think it all started after I saw the movie Easy Rider and learned that the scary people in The Coffee Diner scene weren't actors at all, but were hired after Hopper saw the them making fun of the longhairs and their fancy machines while they were scouting locations. Those were honest to goodness back country hicks that they hired...just like the hill people they used in Deliverance.
(seriously, I'm not making this shit up)

Speaking of man-on-man rape, a guy took an open seat next to mine during Phish's first night last weekend and soon thereafter offered me a bump of cocaine. I accepted, of course, and dipped a corner of my credit card into the baggie to scoop up a small mountain of powder. Unsure if I was about to inhale a large hit of meth or highly adulterated coke, I dove in. Surprisingly, it was actually cocaine and it tasted fairly clean. All was well and good with my advanced buzz until a few minutes later when my new friend casually tried slipping his arm around my waste.

I rebuffed his advance and narrowly missed elbowing him in the face. He gave me a, "What, was that wrong?" look and leaned away away as if preparing to get punched.

I mean, it's not like I'm about to tell the guy to get the fuck away from me. He had coke. Good coke. I simply dismissed it and went back to watching the show. He ended up leaving some time during that song.














A while later in between songs, the same guy came back. I was worried that perhaps I had offended him or maybe even embarrassed him. I just figured that he was back to watch the show from an awesome seat again. I politely asked about his friends who he said he had met up with back by the sound board. He wasn't talkative, and simply offered me another bump of pure cocaine. I accepted again. We're talking cocaine here.

I guess I shouldn't have been shocked when he slipped his arm around my waste again. This time, though, it was time to take physical action. I pushed him away and gave the guy a stern, "Dude, not OK."

He left shortly thereafter and didn't come back for the rest of the show. I had to walk back to my motel while constantly looking over my shoulder in fear. The only safe option was to assume I was being followed and to get ready to run. Hollywood taught me well and good that the only things that truly motivate southern men are butt-rape, chewing tobacco, and murder.













In all seriousness, that was just a minor thing at one hell of a concert and I got some free coke out of it. The next night I got some great videos that are going to be used by Team Hood, Phish's unofficial videographers that edit multi-cam phan videos (steady cams only), add a soundboard matrix, and release professional-ish DVD's and videos within the community.

(mine)