My story pretty much begins this past June. I've gone to visit my mom, and we're talking in the office. She tells me she's gotten offered a contract to pick up five regional tour dates doing henna at Ozzfest. I tell her that's great. At some point in the conversation, it becomes apparent that she needs someone to sit in the front of the booth, be pretty and pleasant, answer the questions, and make people spend money so that all the henna artists need to do is sling henna. Mom tells me that my strip-club-cultivated sales skills, patience, and black belt are much needed. Never one to pass up a free concert, I say yes. Thus, I become the booth bitch.
July 26, 2001. Blossom Music Center, Cuyahoga-Falls-but-Everyone-Calls-it-Cleveland, OH.