Meanwhile...

...back at the site of the Rod Stewart concert - the faithful and hardworking roadies had long packed away the big black amplifiers, the cavernous speaker enclosures, the overhead grid-works with the multicolor spotlights hanging from them and the portable stage. They have even pulled old Rod away from his admiring panty-tossing groupies and gone on to the their next stop on the tour in the big fancy tour motorcoach.

The ground where many had stood, sang, cheered, and waved lit cigarette lighters overhead was now barren - forlorn looking trampled down grass with occasional spots of scattered trash – which the gentle breeze would stir from time to time.

...and even now, a week later, the line remains at the port-a-potty.



OCHA #1, “C’mon fer goshes sakes! Will ya hurry it up!”

OCHA opening door and peering around, “Hey! Hold your horses man!! It gets shy when we’re out in public! ...and all the noise you’re making isn’t helpin’ any!"

OCHA 2 snores quietly, but raggedly.

OCHA 3 thinking to himself, “Oh me head, I’ve got the hangover to end all hangovers!”

OCHA 4, fretting, mumbles under his breath, “Donna ain’t ever gonna go out on a date with me again! She prolly went home with that tall, bright, and orange dude that kept looking at her curvaceous backside and licking his lips at her days ago.”