Attempt #2

Attempt #2: Fargo, North Dakota August 2009

How it Started:

Okay, so Attempt #1 didn’t really work as planned. It was painful.

So, what do I do?fargo

Try again of course!

This time, hopefully without feeling like I’m about to visit the afterlife.

This time I would have to hope they play somewhere that was driving distance.

And there it was, just like clockwork…

Fargo, North Dakota.


This is totally do-able!  I mean, it’s only like 1100 kms… or 13 hours to drive.

So, my gal pal and I buy tickets and book a hotel.

The plan was to drive to Winnipeg, stay with some friends, and then make the trek to Fargo. I am going to get to actually see the show this time. Hooray!

After a stop in Winnipeg for the night and getting grilled at the border, we arrive at our hotel in Fargo. I am overwhelmed. I can’t believe I am getting a second chance to scratch this off my bucket list. Hell yes!!!!


We even pulled out some FANatical moves… (not something I would under normal circumstances do, ever… but this time was an exception… because… SEVENDUST!!)


How it Ended:

We arrive at the Venue. It was an all ages show, so there was no drinking except for the designated area which was upstairs.  We headed upstairs and I ordered two drinks to avoid standing in line again. TWO. I am not a heavy drinker but I figured these two would last the entire night and be enough to take the edge off.

I finished one and Sevendust was taking the stage. Crap! We gotta go downstairs. I did not just drive 13  hours to miss ANY of this show.  I couldn’t take the other one downstairs but we had made friends with one group who insisted they were staying at their table. I made my way to the front.  I am going to enjoy this, finally.

Bad choice.

Years later, as I reflect on this – there is no way I would do that now. I have no excuses other than that I was in my mid 20s and my judgement was – well, questionable.

After the set we headed back upstairs. I grabbed my second drink. Another bad choice. That’s the last thing I remember.

What I do know is that I turned into a belligerent asshole. I stumbled through the night, made no sense, picked fights with all sorts of people and rather than being the ‘friendly Canadian’, I became the Enemy. I made a total scene to say the least. I am surprised I didn’t get kicked out, get my ass kicked, or get arrested.

I am kind of glad that I don’t remember anything.  I don’t want to know what I looked or sounded like.  Any of the photos I have from that night say it all – in fact, I have had them photo shopped so that I could show them.  I did not look like myself.  I was a mess.

I spent the next three days in pain and throwing up non-stop. I felt like death. The drive back was miserable.  I cried the majority of the way – not only because of the way I had felt physically, but because of the complete embarrassment I was feeling. Surely, the one band I found myself to be a fan of – hates me. This was not me. Given my time working in the entertainment industry – there were two things I had always had pride in – building relationships and creating positive impressions. I had failed at both.

The first thing I did when I got back to Canada was visit the doctor. I seem to have a thing for needing a hospital after a Sevendust show.

The blood tests showed positive for traces of Rohypnol.

If it was any other group, I might have been able to shrug it off, eventually. But, this one experience sent me into a bit of a depression for a while. I was mortified.

The only thing to do was hope that third time would be a charm, although I wasn’t sure I could face another show. But, I also couldn’t go through the rest of my life leaving such a shitty impression… which brought me to Attempt #3.

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