We got drunk at LB5Q

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Little Buddy Big Buddy Barbecue, known to most as LB5Q, also known as “that night we waited for goddamn ever to get drunk in a field and paid five bucks for a beer,” took place last week.

We went undercover to expose the dirty secrets and lies that surround it. And what did we find? Well, neither of us can remember that much; we got pretty D-R-U-N-K, if you know what we’re saying. However, after putting our blurry memories together and talking to some friends, we came up with a vague outline of the injustices we suffered at the hands of the Edwards School of Business and the sweet, sweet beer that made it all okay.

Last year, as some of you seasoned vets may remember, there was a situation with the Automated Teller Machines, or ATMs, as they’re more commonly known.

Correction: ATM.

There was just one ATM last year, and despite the promise of ATMs — yes, ATMs plural — on this year’s tickets, there was still just the one. Last year we witnessed many line-budgers and near catfights during the long and arduous task of scoring cash.

Gentlemen, just because you let the cute girl budge you in line does not mean that she is going to fellate you.

If you lined up for the buses after, say, 7 p.m., then you probably know what we are talking about when we say the lineup was fucking bullshit. People have adopted the habit of arriving at the lineup, assessing its size and then walking up and down the line until they find one person they marginally know and squeezing into the lineup.

This year some people waited more than two hours to get onto those buses. We even witnessed some people just giving up and leaving. It was like a mosh pit. It was terrible and awful and even though we had a wicked time at LB5Q, we don’t ever want to go back.

One of us was inappropriately touched while lined up for the bus by some guy who afterwards said “You should be thankful,” and then budged to the front of the line. Douche.

But once you actually get on the bus, you pretty much forget about all that crap. You have about 10 minutes on the bus to get rid of your lineup-related frustrations and get ready for fun times, a.k.a. binge drinking. And if you were prepared with cash like we were, you can begin to guzzle beers and startle others with profanities promptly after your arrival.

This year, the lines at both the ticket booths and the beer tents were fast and civilized. The venue was smaller and thus much better than the endless expanse of lonely terrain of last year. However, this may have presented a problem for the lucky few who needed some room for impromptu and possibly ill-advised hook-ups.

Although we had an excellent time when we got there, we were a little dismayed to learn that we had missed all the cool bands because we waited so long in line. The War Brides and We Were Lovers got shunted to the start of the evening when no one was there to hear them? Come on! We had to listen to a cover band for the whole time, even though that wasn’t so bad because we knew the words to most of the AC/DC songs they were singing.

Still, though. Shit.

graphic Danni Siemens