Reasons Why It's Impossible To Get Laid On Tour

On tour, there are a set of conditions at play that make crashing the custard truck nearly impossible.

The Stones in the 70s, back when it was still possible to crash the custard truck on a nightly basis.

If you've ever gone on tour, some half-drunk uncle has probably pulled you aside at a holiday dinner and demanded the dirt on the finer points of travelin' life. You can just imagine him whisper-spitting into your ear:

"So what's it really like on the road? You know… the groupies? I bet you're playing rumpy pumpy every night, am I right?"

The short answer is... No. You aren't. Unless you're a rapper, or you're a heavy-drinking gay, or you're in a band like Zeppelin who has roadies do the dirty work so the band can shove actual sharks into groupie gash on a nightly basis, your chances of making the beast with two backs diminishes to nearly nil when you're out on the road. I know that sounds stereotypical, but somehow this is true.

I've toured for a good portion of my life, and it may be surprising for all your horndogs to hear that - wait for it - I've actually never seen a single band member meet someone at a show and do the deed that night. Now I know what you're thinking: You're thinking I'm probably just ugly, and have only toured with ugly dinknuts who wouldn't know a serious prospect if it fell onto their genitals. But that's not the case! There are a set of conditions at play on tour that actually make it nearly impossible to nail the dunk pot after a show. Here are a few reasons why.


Here's a little vignette for you. You wake up on a floor at 6AM and literally roll into a gnarly Econoline 15-passenger, where you proceeded to spend the next thirteen hours with no shower, and no stops besides roadside cheese sandwiches and Dr. Pepper. You're chain-smoking cheap cigarettes, and your afternoon visit to a truck stop bathroom to blow the butt-trumpet didn't go anywhere near how you'd planned. Then you get to a venue, lift up a few 110-pound guitar and bass amps, eat some bad Mexican food, and play a forty-minute show under scalding lights.

At the end of the day, all of these elements combine to make your rear such a wasteland that when a prospect comes within ten feet of it their face looks like baby's first lemon.


You might think you can, but you can't. Even if you convince some yokel to get down to it on the filthy floor of your van, turning your vehicle into a "Second Base Mobile" is hands down the biggest dick move a musician can do to his or her fellow travelers.

And if you think you can snag a quick one while they're away, you thought wrong. Your van is littered with empty pretzel wrappers and vitaminwater bottles, perfect hiding places for that lost condom or spurt of discharge to hide. Then the next morning when your singer finds a dental dam wedged between the seats you'll be immediately exiled from any and all group activities and cheated out of your per diems.


Load out is a real problem. There's a golden moment you've got to make an impression, and it's directly after you get offstage. Your prospective one night stand has just seen you and your fumble-core band spill your creative guts onstage, and you've got that irresistible sex glow around you that makes it impossible for him or her not to want to climb aboard.

But just when you get into the groove, your new bass player sticks his stinky face between you and yours and reminds you that it's that time of the night: Load out.

Every single night, load out will annihilate any chance you've got to put the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. If you say no to your band and skip load out, it's only a matter of time before you're that guy, and believe me, there's one in every band. And after load out, generally its one more drink before you drive to wherever it is you're staying for the night. Are you going to miss your only ride? You're in the middle of nowhere and you have to leave early the next morning. Chances are your best bet is for an impassioned and pining look from your potential bone bud, an exchange of numbers, or a quick 'n' dirty HJ in the parking lot.


Everyone in a band has a girlfriend or boyfriend at home. Even the ones who really seem like they don't… they do. And they really, really miss that person. When you spending the majority of your time sitting in a van and carrying gear, the thought of curling up at home with Thai food and weed and watching Jesus Tour-era Klaus Kinski becomes more than a nice alternative, it becomes a fucking religion. Another myth of rock 'n' roll busted: More musicians are crying after shows than railing some groupie.


Seeing miserable girls on tour is the worst. If you're a girl in a band, you're either traveling with or working with guys on a regular basis. Now guys who work in venues aren't generally graphic designer types in cardigans who know how to brew tea: They're scummy, bottom-feeding ex-band dudes who've found work as sound guys, lighting techs, or (worst of all) promoters.

By the end of the second night, you're so sick of these creepos that you turn to the guys in your band for emotional support, which is a terrible idea. Boys are in their worst element when they're on tour, as weeks on the road turn them into farting, burping babies who can only talk in non-verbal toddler language. Eighty percent of conversation revolve around bowel movements, and the other twenty around the girl they tried to bone the night before, which will leave you wishing you'd finished design school instead of signing up for this inhuman profession. This is why girls buy so many women's magazines on the road.


Being on tour is about one thing: Getting as drunk as possible as quickly as possible to fight the crushing boredom that threatens to turn you into a babbling twelve-year-old hours before showtime. This means that touring musicians have extremely low standards when it comes to the spirits they'll imbibe. Snagging a six pack of Beast or Genny Cream may seem like you've hit the motherload, but you're basically a step above hobo at this point. The person you're trying to sleep with, however, is in their hometown, usually on a weeknight, and they'd rather drink a local artisanal microbrew than a Natty Ice. You end up spending all your drink tickets on two drinks, which leaves your date sober and wondering what to do.

The author, who went from not getting laid on tour to not getting laid at work.


I never realized when I was younger that most musicians are holding down freelance jobs while they're on tour. This usually involves lying to your bosses to pass as a respectable citizen instead of a traveling hobo, which requires a degree of stamina that I didn't think any musicians besides drummers possessed. So after the show, very often you've got to find Internet so you can file copy for your freelance magazine job and playing doctor with some drunk townie is not exactly on your list of priorities. That's how I got into this whole VICE business in the first place: by not getting laid on tour.

Follow Ben on Twitter - @b_shap

UPDATE: Wholly illegitimate Noisey sub-sub-Assistant Editor Drew Millard doesn't agree with me. You can read the garbage he's calling a "rebuttal" right here.