War Games – CRAZY TOUR STORIES

This crazy story from the road was written by the indie rock band, War Games. You can check out their story, after the break.

One Warped Tour many summers ago, we had a few consecutive days off in the Midwest. Our bass player Andy’s then girlfriend lived near by, and upon hearing that we were in the area had planned a small get together for us to celebrate her birthday at a hotel right outside of Kansas City. Excited to take a break from the daily grind, do a little partying and get some much needed showers we left Warped a bit earlier than we normally would. We met up with Andy’s girlfriend and a few of her friends whom had previously picked up beer and liquor. We had not all entirely reached 21 just yet, some of the band were still on the cusp of turning 21 while some of us were of legal drinking age. Once at the hotel, I vividly remember the brand new shirt that Andy threw on after his shower. He had received it that day from ‘Breath Carolina’s’ merch guy. The shirt had a pot leaf on it which was wearing sunglasses, smoking a joint and holding a bag of weed. Instead of ‘Breath Carolina’ the shirt said ‘Breath Marijuana’. We all found this quite amusing and were laughing until one of the girls said “hey, what’s this?”, and pulled a funny looking pipe from underneath the bed. After closer inspection we realized it was a meth pipe! Being from the East Coast, it was something we were unfamiliar with seeing in the flesh. Disgusted, we laughed it off and just put it back where it was and forgot about it, relaxed and had a few drinks.

A few hours of drinking had passed and it was already between 1-2am. I decided this was the perfect time to do what I do best. I grabbed an acoustic guitar and started to play and sing. I left the hotel room and went down by the pool, thinking that would be a good place to play. In that very moment, soaking my feet into the cool pool I had a revelation. Here I was, out on the open road after dropping out of college to pursue being a musician, just a kid living the dream. My bubble was burst after hearing a voice shout “Shut the fuck up, I’m trying to sleep”. Courteous, yet drunk I yelled my apology and scurried back to the hotel room where I could continue in peace, that was until I was interrupted by loud knocking at our hotel door. The knocks echoed through the room and through our bones as everyone fell silent and just stared aimlessly at each other. Everyone knew immediately, as if we had some physic telekinesis ability, that this was the police and we were in trouble. Me, our guitar player Ian and a few of the girls tiptoed away to hide in the bathroom, because we had way more guests than we were allowed in the room. Andy’s girlfriend went to open the door to the police officers waiting behind.

With my ear pressed against the door I could hear the conversation. One officer acted as “The Good Cop” calmly explained that there had been a noise complaint, while the other starred as “The Bad Cop” immediately made a comment about Andy’s T-shirt. Andy and his girlfriend had “Good Cop” convinced the situation was under control with impressive apologies and they were about to leave until ‘Bad Cop’ asked “who’s in the bathroom?” Andy responded nervously “Our friend Morgan, she’s in the shower.” ‘Bad Cop’ walked closer to the bathroom, I could hear his footsteps, his baton slapping against his leg, his keys jingling and then as if he was inside my head, he spoke. “Morgan, are you in there?” I nodded at her nervous eyes and she replied “I am just getting out of the shower”. The police officer then informed her that they would be waiting outside and wanted to speak to her. My heart sank into my gut, we had been caught. Without making them wait long, we accepted our fate and Morgan opened the door.

Morgan had taken her first step out of the bathroom when the police officer barged in screaming at us, “Well what do we have here? Liars. I don’t like liars, everyone get out of the bathroom and onto the floor”. They then began to search the room. ‘Bad Cop’ searched the perimeter, lifting up the mattress and throwing our belongings around. “Aha” he shouted, as he pulled a giant bag of Marijuana out of a purse. He held it in the air and looked at Andy sat there in his T-shirt, “this must be yours” he grunted. “Now, is there anything else in here I should know about? Marijuana may be decriminalized in Massachusetts but not here in Missouri.” ‘Good Cop’ was now helping ‘Bad Cop’ search the room, and came across the meth pipe. “You honestly can’t believe that’s ours, do we look like Meth heads? We have all our teeth for crying out loud.” I shouted, the police responded by cuffing us all. Not a second had passed after the cuffs brazed our other guitar player Matt’s clammy wrists when he turned as pale as a ghost and started swaying. I quickly kicked over the trash barrel and he began violently vomiting into it. We were told we had to be taken in on possession of Meth paraphernalia, possession of marijuana, underage drinking, and disturbing the peace. Upon hearing this, Matt’s vomiting grew even louder and more violent.

I remember all the possible consequences of our arrest spinning through my mind. Not finishing the tour, criminal records, being locked in a prison thousands of miles from home with no bail. My internal pity party was interrupted when one of Andy’s girlfriend’s friends bravely stood up. The shimmering police lights reflected off of her as though she was some form of angel, she said “The Marijuana is mine, the booze is mine, and the meth pipe was here when we got here, come on, we all have all our teeth. These boys don’t deserve this, they were on tour and just looking for a place to shower and sleep.” Good and Bad Cop turned to one another and unexpectedly said “fair enough”. They then un cuffed everyone and said, “everyone is free to go except for you”, pointing at our savior. This rush of adrenaline caused her to have a panic attack. ‘Good Cop’ called an ambulance whilst trying to calm her. We stood silently against the wall until the paramedics arrived and hurried her out. Unsurprisingly, the police informed us we weren’t allowed to stay the night and we had to leave. As soon as we passed our hotel room door Andy broke into a sprint. Confused, we carried on towards the van and sat waiting. On his later return, I asked him where he had been, he replied “I nearly shit myself, so I ran in the woods to shit”. Concerned, I asked him what he had wiped with and he replied, “my underwear, and I lost my wallet out there”. We both laughed, which was cut short when I noticed he had poop on his arm. I told him not to move, grabbed a paper towel from our trailer and wiped it off him, like a good friend should. Mine and Andy’s moment of bonding was interrupted by Ian yelling “Let’s get the hell out of here” from the driver’s seat. We jumped in the van and headed straight towards the next Warped Tour date, leaving the poop, meth pipe and vomit behind us.

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