Weigh Station stories....
#1. Running from San Antonio to Tampa Bay for The Greg Kihn Band. Back when Joe Satriani was a sideman. I'm running solo with the band gear in a 16ft parcel van, non stop. Fuel / Food / fart breaks that's it. Running clean, too. Except for some fireworks I had picked up in Kansas.
Come into this little Agricultural Inspection station just after heading South in Fla. I'm off the interstate, saving miles and making good time.
The Agent asks me what I'm hauling, where I'm going, when I left, the usual run down.
As I lift the back door, I hear him inhale, as if to taste the air coming out of the back.
I swung my head around and he said, "You're good. Nothing in here."
I asked if he had tasted the air and he acknowledged that's what he was doing.That he could often smell whatever cocaine or weed was baled up in a load. In the days before Red Bull, I was running on Coca Cola and Coffee mixers. Stirred with a Snickers bar.
#2. Driving 24 ft bobtail for Todd Rundgren.
Running from Salt Lake City to the East Coast, through Oklahoma. State trooper pulls us over and asks what we're hauling , where we're going, what time did we leave, same old , same old. Finds out we're "A Bands ROADIES !?!?OMGWTFBBQ!?!" Calls in a drug dog. makes us dump the back so the dog could walk the load.
Nothing.
Zip. Nada.
But a bunch of wasted time. Thanks, just doing that job.
Whatever. Better fishing at the lake , I hear.
I have more, just wait.
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