I remember waking up that faithful morning like a giddy child on Christmas morning, about to open the present that’s shaped (and smells) like a pony. Yes, that morning, August 16, 2009, I awoke two hours in advance to get ready to drive with my friend and her mother down to Pittsburgh Post Gazette to attend Crue Fest II. Rushing to get ready, We left five hours before the doors would open to grab a choice spot on the lawn. Driving down, our TomTom took us the wrong way (HOW??!), we had to take a detour, my friend’s mom is a fucking lunatic, we almost crashed THREE TIMES, and I had to piss so incredibly bad that my eyes were swimming. Getting there, we waited in 90 degree heat and 100 percent humidity to use the DISCUSTING port-a-potties for HALF AN HOUR. Apparently people think it’s funny to take a dump while there’s a hefty line waiting on their smelly ass. We also had to wait an hour outside for the gates to open to let us enter the pavilion because my friend’s mother didn’t feel like turning the car on to let us sit inside the car…with the air on.
Now step back for a moment, and let me ask you this question. Does it make sense to sit inside a roasting metal deathbox while it’s 90 degrees outside with the air conditioner off? It apparently did to Motherbrain. But I digress….
We finally decide it’s a good time to stand in line. We get our blanket and our one 16 - oz bottle of water (because that’s pretty much all we’re allowed to bring in there), and stand. For over an hour. Arriving at the threshold of the line, we’re casually told that we’re not allowed to sit on the blanket there. WONDERFUL. We come to the conclusion that the blanket can go fuck itself, and threw it somewhere far, far away.
THE END.
The two other girls and I ended up having a great time when the bands came on. We almost got pulverized by fat drunk bastards rolling down the hill, and I even got splashed with some type of mystery liquid. I think it was chew spit. Fucking gross. Godsmack kicked major ass, and was the best band there. Mick Mars played a 15 minute guitar solo of random noises, and it sucked ass. It was quiet, boring, and frankly, it put 99% of the audience to sleep. All in all, Denny’s afterwards was the highlight of the night. We got home at 3 am.