Where's My Xanax?

~The Night I Became a Groupie~

on October 15, 2014

Ever wake up in the back of a rock band’s bus, in your underwear,  gum stuck in your hair, one of your shoes still on and a condom duct taped to the inside of your leg? Okay, Good I thought I was the only one *chuckles*. (oh, let me state is was an UNUSED condom)


Groupie: A Slut that sleeps with bands.

Now before you get your undies in an uproar, I didn’t sleep with the band. Well I don’t think I did, LoL. But I did briefly date the lead guitarist. By date I mean we hung out in the back of the bus for 5 hours (give or take). You know, a heartfelt meaningful relationship.

For the record I won’t make you wonder long why the condom was unused duct taped to my inner thigh. And No I did not have a love child 9 months later. But wow, now wouldn’t that be a blog *smiles*.

Okay, sit down and shut up and let me finish my blog *looks stern at you*.

How does one end up in the back of a rock bands bus? I am still pondering this one but I am going to give you a few pointers from what I remember. Let me state the band I hung out with was playing a small venue in the state I live in.

1. Be beautiful.  If your not, well then. Yeah not sure what to tell you *shrugs*.

2. Dress Hot and by “HOT” I mean a school girl skirt, a white top and white knee highs and  heeled black Mary Jane’s  (Hey, it was a different decade that shit was popular!) Today that would mean, skinny jeans, black heels and a kick ass boobie bearing top. If you got it flaunt it, but keep it classy NOT trashy and NO I know your wondering I did not have pigtails in, that’s way to cliche.

3. Be able to carry on a conversation, you have to stand out! (Okay, I just re read that and I just spit my soda) I don’t think bands are really concerned with your communication skillz, at least not at this point.

4. You must get in the front row and shake what god gave you, I was lucky to have been blessed with dance moves. I am like a white Michael Jackson, okay, maybe I mean Janet. But I think you get my point? Right?

5. Make eye contact with the band, more importantly the one maybe you would love to be having blissful sex with 3 hours from now with? Now if you do want the whole band, well then your going to look like a crazy googly eyed bitch making eye contact, but hey if it works, let me know. Look at him/her/them with awe and enamor in your eyes. Everyone, even rock stars love to feel wanted/needed.

6. Pray to god that somehow, someway, you end up talking at the bar with one member if not more of the band or that you have made it back stage somehow, a connection helps. I however did not have a connection. You can always write I want to suck your cock after the show on a poster board with a black sharpie. Now that will get their attention and probably every sexual predator within 23 miles attention. But yeah?

I really think it was the alcohol and my charming good looks *smiles*.

It just occurred to me I am giving you pointers how to whore yourself out. Does that make me a pimp? Or is that when you pay me once you land the band?


I am way off track here, anyway so somehow I am now invited unto the bus. let me assure you I am being a safe groupie/slut. I have a trusted sidekick with me. LoL.  So we both enter the bus. Fuck, have you ever seen a rock stars bus. Its like a house on wheels. I had to roll my tongue back in and wipe the drool off my chin *wipes up the drool*. Now let me state YOU will not be the ONLY girl/boy/animal on the bus. I’m joking I swear there was no donkey or animal on the bus. Well, there was this one girl. She was on all fours, barking, never mind.

This is where is you have to be able to be cool or maybe just get on your knees and ready to service, however I guess I chose the NO service route. I think for me it was the challenge to get on the bus and hey I loved to party. So lets fucking party like rock stars. Now let me state while many rock bands are now sober and etc. This band was not. They had booze and every drug known to man. Well a lot more than I had ever seen. Mind you I am a small town girl. I snorted coke off a chicks tits. No I didn’t know her, but damn her tits were great. Did I mention I’m ADHD and a Gemini? Cocaine is not a good drug for a hyperactive Gemini, were crazy enough already *anxiousl smile*. But oh how you can drink on cocaine. I really hope my kids aren’t reading this. “Kids, Drugs are bad, very very bad, now get back in bed!” or my mom, “Oh Hi Mom” *shrieks*.

Where was I, oh yeah I’m now not only a slut, but a coke whore fueling up on booze. So like any typical Wisconsin chick,  I say “Hey let’s play quarters”. Somehow, which I now think odd, everyone was down to play. This is where the story gets strange and let me give you the best advice you will ever hear. “NEVER PLAY QUARTERS WITH A ROCK BAND” apparently they are on the road for days and days and they will beat you, oh will they beat you. So a bottle of Absolute and Jack later. I am not sure I know my name. I think it’s Chloe, at least that’s what I’m going with, okay and my sidekick is Natasha? I know what your thinking, “Let’s Party” right? Who doesn’t want to party with a Chloe and Natasha. I think I should of picked Natasha *sighs*. Then someone says let’s play strip poker, that is another game they KNOW how to play, WELL.

So, Everyone is now drunk and half naked well maybe just me but everyone seems to be having fun, music is blaring, there is a manager and yeah that shit is really like the movies, there is a creepy guy or two sitting at the door of the bus on the couch, warding off ugly chicks or wives I suppose, just kidding, we all know wives would bust down the fucking door. I imagine they do a lot of masturbating or get sloppy seconds, thirds or whatever is left over. I don’t really want to know or think about it. *distraught look upon my face*.

Well anyway, 24 people have now become 12 and I think about this now and it had to be awkward, but at the time, yeah this was going to be a bucket list moment, I mean who doesn’t want to fuck a rock star? I am still raising my hand to that one. *googles hot rockstars* in their 40’s, jk. That’s crazy shit I chose to do when young, drunk and fueled up on other drugs. I wasn’t really thinking. So, out of no where this guy kisses me, yeah the lead guitarist, and OMG I can still remember the taste of his lips. It was probably the chick he had the night before *lmaooooo*. God, that’s a gross though, puked a little.

So, I won’t divulge the juicy details, oh yeah that’s cause I don’t remember. I hope it was good for him, oh yeah and me too. But I did wake up in just my underwear. Sidekick on the floor 10 feet away. My head was pounding. I slowly got up and grabbed my stuff. Now I am sure they are used to the “sneak out”. So I wasn’t too worried about offending him but I didn’t want to wake everyone so they could watch me take the walk of shame off the bus. I prodded the sidekick, she slowly snuck out with me. I never did find my other shoe or my bra and it took me a full day getting the gum out of my hair. But hey I ding donged a lead guitarist *proudly smirks*.


Oh this is NOT the end of my story, did you think I was done? A few days/ maybe a week later I get a strange call on my home phone, and yes this was when we used home phones. Well I think cell phones were out but not popular yet. I answer and “the guy” is on the other end. Yes the guitarist. I am thinking the worse. I mean why would HE be calling ME on the phone, he must have aids and the doctor has told him he has to tell his list. *oh fuck, Im dying*. Okay, he doesn’t have Aids. Wait, how does he even know my number? Yeah okay, I’m sure the drunk cocaine fueled Lisa, oh I mean Chloe gave it to him.  But why on earth is he calling me, ponders again.

The call went kind of like this.

Him: Lisa

Me: Yes?

Him: How are you?

Me: Uhmmmm, I am good thank you for asking and you? *shocked and a bit confused*.

Him: I am good too, thank you for asking. (Actually he said tired, the road is hard and the nights are long) anyway.

Now I look back and why should I be shocked. I am a beautiful woman, who is a lot of fun and definitely could hold my own with a rock star. well not the drugs and alcohol. But yeah, I got what it takes. But back then, yeah I’m a bit confused.

Him: I am sure you are wondering why I’m calling you?

Me: Well, it is nice to hear from you but yeah kind of.

Him: I want to tell you I found your bra.

Me: Gasps, and is mortified and dumb founded.

Me: How do you know its mine.

Him: Well here’s the kicker Lisa. It has your name on it, with your phone number and says if lost call.

SHRIEKS, WTF, I did what? Now mind you I didn’t say anything. I sat here embarrassed.

Him: But.

OMG, there is a but. *crawls underneath a rock to die*. LoL.

Him: Lisa

Me: Yes

Him: The thing you wrote Dear (his name) on the one side, the message on the other, as he read it again.

Sits here quiet yet, dying of humiliation.

Him: I just want you to know you are the first girl to do anything like that, girls throw their top, bras, panties and other unmentionables  on stage all the time, but the fact that you wrote me a cute personal little message was totally cool.

Me: Breathes and says Ohhhhhhhhhhh, and giggles.

Him: You definitely know how to get attention.

Me: So uhmm, can I ask you a question?

Him: Sure

Me: I woke up with gum in my hair and a condom duct taped to my leg, and no shoe (well and no bra but you solved that mystery) could you tell maybe give me a heads up, why?

Me: Oh and Did we?

Him: Have sex?

Me: Yes.

Him: You don’t remember?

Me: Well not every moment in full detail. Was I at least good *chuckles*.

Him: Wow, now this is a first. A girl who doesn’t remember my fabulous love making skills.

Just sits here, as I seriously I don’t remember.  I blame the drugs. (MAKES A NOTE: NEVER DO DRUGS AGAIN!)

Him: You demanded safe sex, so I went and got a condom, I came back and you were passed out, So I duct taped the condom to your inner thigh. Safe sex, you know?

So, there you have it all the answers, well not the lost shoe, but one shoe lost in a night of hard partying with a rock band, so worth the loss. The moral to the story. Don’t do drugs and safe sex is a must. Damn how boring is that bullshit. How do I tell my kids I passed out on a lead guitarist. God I’m fucking lame *shrugs in disappointment*.

I am never sure how I got the gum in my hair, but I did get it out without chopping off my hair, so it’s all good, thank ice cubes and peanut butter.

Well now my story is over, and before I go. I am going to share a little info:


Kind of a cool article. I have read a few of the books listed. Pretty wild stuff, especially compared to  my rock band bus moment.

As the years have passed. I will say I had some fun times growing up, this being one of them, I wouldn’t take back too many things in my life no matter how crazy, wild, sad, wrong even they were, they made me the person I am today. Life is meant to be lived and I am living it every minute, and let me tell you. I can handle my liquor now, so yeah that bus would of been rockin, don’t come knockin~

SIDENOTE: Before the said guy threw me up against the wall and kissed me, we had really talked. It was kind of cool to hear his stories, that was between the coke on some chicks tits and the 2 bottles of booze and 3 games of strip poker I lost, thats why I’m in my undies duh. (Nahh, really he was an interesting guy, and when everyone started to bump like bunnies he was more than willing to just talk and hangout)


29 responses to “~The Night I Became a Groupie~

  1. ikarlee says:

    That story had me in stitches. -wipes tears of laughter from eyes- … I kind of feel sad that I never did anything outrageous in my youth. I was such a goody two shoes, I don’t have exciting stories to tell or hide from my kids!

    Liked by 1 person

    • ~Lisa~ says:

      well MY blog is content and I did delete this entry from facebook as I’m more worried about my MOM seeing. Oh I was the poster child of outrageous things. Really if I could put all my life mishaps, sadness and sillies into words, Id write a book. You still have time, it is never too late to do some really fun outrageous things, in the end who do you really have to answer too?


  2. Funny story– thanks !!


  3. autosoma says:

    Just so I get this right, you wrote a message to him on your bra with your name and number, it’s not that you have a label in all your underwear saying “If found please return to: …”

    Liked by 1 person

    • ~Lisa~ says:

      Yeah with a sharpie even apparently, one side said Dear, his name and the other side….if lost, call…with my number. I do believe I wrote something else…NON sexual but yeah that it seemed to work. To this day I remember something he said…”I just want to inspire someone to play the guitar, a kid, an old man, whoever, if they hear me and want to play” I’ll be happy. (so i wrote…you inspire me)


      • autosoma says:

        I think its a total ingenious thing to do… when my daughters get to an age when I feel comfortable with the notion of them having a sex life (probably never)… I’ll pass on this tip…

        Liked by 1 person

      • ~Lisa~ says:

        Yeah, My GIRLS better never be on a rock bands bus, especially drunk, snorting cocaine and playing strip poker. I will KILL someone. LoL. Two managers wont hold this mom back, jk. Is cocaine even still around?


      • autosoma says:

        I don’t think it would really bother me unless my girls were hurt in some way. My mother did it in the sixties and my wife did it way before we got together, I just think its something that just happens, though I think it’s something easier for women to do. I had a mate at university who tried to be a Bangles groupie, he just ended up spending shitloads on tickets and looking like a stalker, then they left the country and he was all upset.

        Liked by 1 person

      • ~Lisa~ says:

        Omg, sorry about your friend, but I’m laughing. Hmm to guy groupies, I don’t think their are enough main stream chick bands to be a legit groupie. I guess I really believe its not so much about being a groupie. I just am drawn to powerful men and hey if you can hangout with them, more power to you? I wouldn’t be so worried about my girls and the drugs as I know it happens sometimes, well it did in my day and booze and beer well lots of kids to that. I think? Mine don’t yet, but I guess I remember seeing some of the girls on that bus, who just down right whores. Not that I was much better, but it’s about demanding respect. This guy could of thrown my bra out? He could of been like oh just another groupie, but he didn’t and if my girls would probably stand out in the same way as they are from me and just reading your blogs. I am sure your wife is an amazing, fun woman and your daughter a mini version of her. Now to you, jk.


      • autosoma says:

        Your experience sounds very similar to my wife’s. She did look up what had happened to the band and the guy had turned into a bald straggly haired pot bellied school teacher in a small Welsh town… she was mortified, I found it difficult not to laugh. I personally think that if she hadn’t had the experience then if/when our daughters are in a similar situation she be able to be better supportive.

        I have a friend who was tour manager for Shampoo a nineties girl group (he was also the Merc Manager for the Manics), although for legal reasons he’d never divulge the stories, he did intimate that it could get very crazy with them.

        As for the drugs as long as my two are sensible about consumption and can manage I won’t have issues. I’m more concerned with how selfie culture and cyber bullying will affect them.


      • ~Lisa~ says:

        the band I hungout with is no longer. the guitarist does still play but married with kids, last I knew. He was 2 yrs older than me, which is odd when I met him I thought he was like much young. Good guitarist. I would divulge more than the kiss happend but yeah…..giving name never cool……drugs I was over 18 and I have to admit I loved cocaine the night i tried it. I wont lie……


    • ~Lisa~ says:

      you know I got to thinking…undies in uhmm thongs? jk.


  4. Mike G. says:

    Well that answered a couple of questions. Apparently your daughters don’t know about your blog as of yet and the condom wasn’t for the next band member but actually for the first who never got to use it. Also glad that you put your name and number on your bra and it wasn’t your mom’s idea.

    Of a more critical grammarian note I find that a lot of Midwesterners write out the phrase “could have been ” or any other number of constructs requiring the “helping verb” have as “of.” Like could of been. I know you all realize that of is a preposition and not a verb. I am going to chalk it up to dialect. But it honestly drives me fucking crazy. I read in one of your earlier blogs that you appreciate people being direct. I hope this grammar issue won’t come between us. I nearly missed my train reading this. And I has to carry my brief case in front of my junk for a moment. Because snorting coke of another woman’s breasts is quite a nice thought. So was your “costume.” But that’s probably a middle aged guy thing that I would rather not spend much time thinking about. Like that rock video with Liv Tyler and Alicia Silverstone. But possibly creepier. Sorry.

    Yes, I am not getting much these days. 😦

    And finally as I ponder that thought I’d like to pass along the proper spelling of masturbate. Cuz I really know a lot about that!!!

    Liked by 1 person

    • ~Lisa~ says:

      I am not offended, I actually had a blog on here about me, apparently I took it off, it called out people like you, giggles. WHO are worried, about my t’s, i’s, spelling and proper word usage. Do you want to know what it said from here? It might offend you. LoL. Anyway, yeah coke off a pair of tits was the highlight of the 90’s for me. Oh, what could have been, har har har. As to masturbate. I am sure there is a spell check button on here. I just haven’t found it. and it is a joke really masterbate aka MASTER. Like I am the master of my pussy, clit and etc. Same as you are the master of your whatever. I hope you have a fabulous day at work.


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