Mr. Gnome - CRAZY TOUR STORIES

In this Crazy Tour Stories segment, the rock/indie duo, Mr. Gnome, shares one of their stories from being on the road. You can check out the story below:

Having toured nonstop for a decade, we’ve experienced countless insane moments along the way—like the time our car got stuck in a shootout in a hotel parking lot in Texas and became part of a crime scene. Or the time in Spokane when we swear we met two ghost children in the middle of the street at 1:30 in the morning. Or the bar brawl in Flagstaff, AZ, where a woman broke a bottle over a man’s head. I (Nicole) somehow became a witness to the crime and had to identify the woman to the police. Or the time we stayed in a haunted hotel room and discovered a giant bloodstain on the mattress under the sheets. Or when I got a bacterial infection from kneeling down on a disgusting stage, ended up in the ER, and was put on antibiotics for months. Or the time a group of people in the crowd cried during our set. “Wow, we must have really touched them emotionally!” No, they were just freaking out on some very strong pot edibles. Or the countless aggressive, drunken fans who made us uncomfortable in every possible way. We could go on and on, but let’s look at two very special moments we hold near and dear to our hearts:

After playing a set in Oklahoma City, we were hanging outside the club with some of the other bands when a guy appeared out of the darkness carrying what looked like a walking stick. On top of that stick was a very real, tiny, amputated, oozing raccoon hand. “I just found it by the dumpster,” he said proudly. Everyone around was freaking out, disgusted, and confused. Then someone in the group yelled, “Lick it, dude!” daring him to lick the tiny raccoon hand, and of course, he did. Then he started puking. Then another person started puking. “It was so pimply!” he yelled, gagging, as yet another person started heaving. “Put it in your mouth!” a drunken observer yelled. After a quick beer chug, he did just that… and of course, he threw up again. Good times in OKC.

We were playing in New Orleans and had just finished our set. The crowd had left, and it was just the bands hanging out. The door behind us opened, and a very large, intoxicated man appeared in the doorway (a friend of one of the other bands), just standing there, giggling. “Oh no,” said our friend, who played in the band before us. “He always does this.” When we turned back toward the man in the doorway, he was now standing there, fully naked and laughing. “Did someone say get naked?” he yelled as he sprinted toward us. He proceeded to run at us, wrap his arms around our tense bodies, and trap us against the bar. “Who needs a naked hug?” he yelled into our ears, spit flying, as he bear-hugged us, his sweaty naked body smearing across our faces as he buried us in his hairy bosom. After writhing and wiggling out of his grip, he finally let us go in order to begin slapping his breasts on top of the bar over and over again, yelling, “Titty slaps, titty slaps!” We were laughing so hard our sides hurt, but at the same time, we were very frightened.

So, what’s the moral of the story, children? If you want a life of excitement, unexpected encounters with naked men, sightings of ghost children, and dismembered animal parts, then the life of a touring musician is for you!

Keep up with Mr. Gnome on their website, Instagram, Twitter, YouTube, and Bandcamp.