I have since changed my tune on Radiohead but in 2008 I wasn’t a believer in their hype.  I thought they were playing crap music and trying to pass it off as art.  Smells insisted I was insane and told me I had to check them out at Lollapalooza.  Fine, what’s the worst that can happen?.

I’d just moved into a new apartment that week so my Mom was in town helping move my shit.  We’d been unpacking all week and agreed that Friday afternoon would be a night off for both of us.  I met up with Smells and went to Lollapalooza, while Mom met an old friend for dinner.

I hooked up with Smells and my buddy DenRay that Friday around 3:00 and we walked to Grant ParkThe Black Keys went on at 3:00, we checked them out and had a beer or two. They were followed by The Raconteurs at 4:00, another couple of beers.  Radiohead was scheduled to go on around 8:00, so we moved to their stage and found a spot with a group of about twenty friends.

It was about a million degrees out that day and two random dudes approached us with a big jug of water.  “Is anyone thirsty?”  I am, so why not?  I took a huge gulp.  So refreshing….

We stood around for another 30 minutes waiting for Radiohead to go on.  Just as they walked on stage I started feeling “off.”  Something just wasn’t right.  I’d only drank 5-6 beers in 5 hours so I wasn’t that drunk and this was NOT a drunk feeling.  This was something different.

My buddie’s wife looked at me and could tell by my eyes that I wasn’t all there.
“Chip, what’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know but I’m super light-headed.”
“How many beers did you have.”
“Not that many, I need to go lie down.”

We were standing and it was jam-packed, so she grabbed my hand and walked me to the back of the crowd.  She sat me down, leaned me against a wall and told me they’d be back for me after the show.  As I leaned back against the wall my eyes shut.  Lights… OUT.

A few hours later, I open my eyes, I’m dead sober, sitting in a port-a-potty with a cop shaking the door and screaming at me to get out.   What the fuck!?!?  I have over 20 texts and calls from Smells and my friends who had been searching for me.  After a while they just assumed I went home and left me.

I stumble out of the shitter into Grant Park.  I’m only ten feet from where she sat me down.  It’s almost midnight so I’ve been passed out for almost four hours.  Holy shit!  Did I just get freakin roofied?  Dude… Awesome!  Kind of fucked up but also pretty much awesome.  I’ve never been roofied before.  Do dudes get roofied?  And how did I assume that this literal shit hole was the safest and best place for me to relax?

I wandered back to The Loop and hop in a cab home.  Mom is obviously asleep and I curl up on the couch, paranoid I’m going to relapse and wake up all jacked up in the morning.

The next morning we get up for brunch and she asks me “How was the show? Anything exciting happen?”  “Nah, just the usual shit.”

I guess that while being roofied was pretty solid for comedy sake, I don’t really know if drinking random dudes water is advised.  I would like to see Radiohead sometime though.

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