I told my friends I would be there

I am 34 years old and you would think by now I could manage my friends and peer pressure a little better. But I can’t. There are certain people in my life that I just refuse to say no to. They could probably offer me drugs and I would do it just to fit in. Also, if they jumped off a bridge, I would too. I love these people. As to not further give them any power, I will not disclose their names.

Last month tickets went on sale for Watershed 2016. Watershed is a 5-day country music festival at the Gorge Amphitheater in George, Washington. Alongside this music festival there is also camping – for an additional cost. Now, from what my friends tell me, there are two different kinds of camping – General Population (coined Gen Pop) and Big Rig (for trailers, RV’s and Fifth Wheels). The night before tickets went on sale my friend Randy* coached me that I needed general admission tickets and Big Rig camping. That – and I quote directly – “If you don’t get Big Rig camping, people are going to piss on you, force you to join a temporary Harem, party for days on end and you will have to go to the bathroom in what they call the grumpy dump. You don’t even want to know what the grumpy dump is! Make sure you get Big Rig camping.”

(Please note readers, I do not own a “Big Rig” I have the equivalent of a covered wagon that I camp in. My boyfriend likes to rough it in the great outdoors, so when I yowl and cry about the bathroom situation or the temperature inside said covered wagon, he gently reminds me how wonderful nature is. In my humble opinion, nature can bite me. I like microwaves, heating, AC and my stereo. But I digress… I don’t like the payment of a Big Rig.)

So the next day, I take an hour of vacation time at work so that I can log onto the Watershed website from my phone and get these tickets. Now, I will just note here that this whole experience, of a lifetime no doubt, is going to run me about $700. So instead of dutifully making my house payment, I logged on. I told my friends I would be there – damn the mortgage! As the countdown begins for tickets to go on sale, I can feel my palms getting sweaty and I am shaking. I hear Eminem’s song lyrics about mom’s spaghetti on a repeat loop in my mind. This is the real deal. Get the tickets. Get Big Rig camping. Avoid the Grumpy Dump. I told my friends I would be there.

10:00 a.m. I log on and select the tickets that I want and the Big Rig camping. I have to enter a CAPTCHA so the computer knows I am legit. I wait. Try again. Damn.

10:05 a.m. I log on and select the tickets that I want and the Big Rig camping. I have to enter a CAPTCHA so the computer knows I am legit. I wait. Try again. Shit.

10:10 a.m. I log on and select the tickets that I want and the Big Rig camping. I have to enter a CAPTCHA so the computer knows I am legit. I wait. Try again. F*ck!!!  This is a lot more effort than I thought.

I message Randy: “This isn’t working. Maybe they are sold out.

Randy: “Keep trying. Don’t you want this??”

Me: “Yes”

Randy: “Then keep trying!”

I wipe the sweat from my palms and mop my forehead. I try again.

10:15 a.m. I log on and select the tickets that I want and the Big Rig camping. I have to enter a CAPTCHA so the computer knows I am legit. I wait. Try again. Double F*CK!!!!.

10:20 a.m. I log on and select the tickets that I want and the Big Rig camping. I have to enter a CAPTCHA so the computer knows I am legit. I wait. Try again. So over this. Do I really want to go? Yes, I do.

10:25 a.m. I log on and select the tickets that I want and the Big Rig camping. I have to enter a CAPTCHA so the computer knows I am legit. I wait. And I wait. And I wait.

Twenty minutes later it gives me two tickets but BIG RIG CAMPING IS SOLD OUT! How can that even be?? In a panicked state of not wanting to lose my tickets, I purchase festival tickets and Gen Pop camping. I am going to get pissed on and my 34 year streak of being drug free is going to come to a screeching halt. 

I feel so humiliated and disgusted with myself that I can’t even look at Randy’s text without putting my iPhone face down in shame. I couldn’t even secure Big Rig tickets. What sort of concert attendee was I anyway? I finally worked up the nerve to text and it goes something like this:

Me: I got the tickets!

Randy: Oh good! You’ll love camping with all of us in Big Rig land. Gen Pop is so gross. Only losers camp in Gen Pop.

Me: Yeah totally gross. I only plan to be there to sleep.

Randy: What?

I then tell the tale of woe, how Big Rig was sold out and I couldn’t understand why. She just replies with “Its fine.” Which I know it’s not. I told my friends I would be in Big Rig.

Later that night, after I have obsessed about this dilemma all day, I have come to a conclusion: I am going to buy a trailer and park it at the very edge of Gen Pop so I can still be somewhat near my friends. When I propose this idea to my boyfriend he looks at me like I have lost my mind.

Boyfriend: So you’re going to buy a $20,000 to go camping with your friends, but not really, for one weekend?

Me: Yes.

Boyfriend: What about our tent? It works just fine.

Me: But I want a trailer!!!! Everyone has a trailer but me!!

I would like to note that my boyfriend is 19 years my senior and yes, sometimes, I act like a complete child and he has to “parent” me. He also doesn’t seem to care very much whether I am popular or what my friends want me to do. Which is weird I think. In hindsight, I think he wants me to be a nerd so no one else wants me. I’ll have to look into that… So basically the trailer idea is thrown out of the window.

Since the ticket buying day, Randy and I have been scheming like a set of Mean Girls on how to get me into Big Rig camping. The price has been inflated to $650 for a spot on StubHub (Still better than a new trailer!) so I think my best bet is to start a Go Fund Me for my next camping spot, and my extra house payment.

Please donate! Thanks!

*Real name withheld to protect identity