Speaking of Lines

So even though the whole 99 Cent Only thing didn’t work out, I thought you’d like to know that I HAVE been known to camp out for things on several occasions. And you wanna know what’s more pathetic than the fact that I basically lived like a homeless person for many hours? That EVERY time I’ve camped out for something, I haven’t ever gotten that “something.”

1990: GARTH BROOKS TICKETS
Garth Brooks was coming to the Houston rodeo and this cowgirl wanted a seat. My best friend Amber wanted one too. And so did her mom, cousin, sister and other family members. So Amber, her mother and I offered to camp out. Natch, Amber and I were giddy about the idea because we were seventh graders and her mom just had to come and chaperone. We brought sleeping bags, snacks and I’m sure our favorite Garth Brooks tunes. There are two depressing things I remember about that experience:

1. We camped out at FIESTA for some reason.
2. The tickets sold out in about two minutes so we had to settle for Clint Black. I’ve still never seen good old Garth in concert.


1995: TEXAS v. A&M FOOTBALL TICKETS
We were freshman in college and the only way to get the coveted tickets was to camp out at the stadium all night. My roommate Papasan was not for it. She preferred the sanctuary of her twin bed and Desperate Housewives’ comforter. Here’s how I sold her: “But it’s our crazy college days! We’ll always look back and remember how crazy it was that we camped out all night! We’ll laugh about it and tell our kids. And we’ll say, ‘Oh, those were our crazy college days!’” So we did it. And the two depressing things about that night are:

1. We didn’t get the tickets.
2. We never reminisce about it. Although I guess that means we got much crazier which is uplifting.

2003: BOBBY BONES DJ TRYOUTS

Frank and I had just moved to Austin and I didn’t have a job. I heard that the Bobby Bones morning show was having a contest to see who would be his co-host. Not only that, but the winner got a car and an apartment! I was so sure I was going to get it that I even called the radio station and discussed what we would do about the fact that I already had an apartment.

The first fifty people in line at this bar on 6th street would get a shot to try out at 5:00 on a Friday. Luckily, I drove by the bar at 10am and saw a few people camped out. I ran home, got my camping chair, some food and Frank dropped me off at the bar. It was August; the heat was brutal. And I was sitting on 6th street with ten random DJ wannabes. The ten of us really bonded for the next seven hours. We met a homeless guy, chatted with him for awhile and then he stole a girl’s wallet. So we called the police, chased down the homeless guy and all that kept us pretty busy.

When it came time to audition, I totally stuttered and stammered. But one of the ten, a girl from Colorado named Alison, really impressed them. She made it to the finals which were to be held the next week. We all agreed to go and support her and we did. The ten of us line-campers, all reunited the next weekend. Alison made it all the way to the on-air tryouts. She ended up getting runner-up. But we became really good friends and I loved telling people that we met on the street one day. So here are the two depressing things about that line:

1. The whole thing about me not becoming a morning DJ which is like my life-long dream. It’s like a live blog!
2. Where the hell is Alison? I totally lost touch with her. Hello? Has anyone seen her? Let me know! I hate to lose a friend with such a great meeting story.

So you’d think since all my waiting in line experiences have failed, I would give up. No, not me. One day I’ll get the prize—whether it’s an iPod, a scooter, a POÄNG chair, or a job. Hey, I bet if I camped out for Garth Brooks tickets now I could get ‘em! Now that’s depressing.