New Jersey, Day Two


I woke up the next day at 11:00AM. I take my time getting ready, talk to a few friends online, and have a small breakfast with Sarah and her parents. We get to the venue around 1:00PM, and I head to the non-metclub GA line. There I make friends with a kick ass mom and her son, and an Air Force man. Eventually one of the clubbers sells a Metclub GA ticket to the mom, and she gives it to her son. He holds a spot for his mom on the center of the rail facing Lars’ kit, and I’m excited for them. They had never seen Metallica before and it’s people like them who deserve it.


We head inside, and all of the middle section is taken. So I go to the corner rail like I did the night before and meet all the Machine Head fans from last night. And immediately I am informed that Robb Flynn was there, and most importantly, he was asking for me. “Dude, where’s that chick from last night?! She was so spazzy and cute!” I missed him by two minutes. Like, a minute, two minutes. A very, very short time frame. Got ridiculed the whole night cuz of it, and I couldn’t believe it.

I had a sign with me again this time, but it was only for Metallica. Well, fuck that! I made a makeshift one for Machine Head right here and then. This one said: “I REALLY FUCKING <3 Machine Fucking Head! FLYNN IS METAL!!” I just knew Robb would be looking for me in the corner, so I made sure during MH’s set to hold it high. Lo and behold, during Beautiful Morning like last night, he saw me. His face visibly brightened while he was singing and he pointed to me on the side of the stage as we sang along. At the last song, Davidian, he pointed to me and we sang along like crazy having eye-contact. And while I was windmilling like crazy at the rail, he pointed to me and shouted to the crowd, “THAT’S MY GIRL!!!” Right at the end of the show he gave me a wave and I waved back.

Metallica comes on. I switch the poster to the original side. It’s a poster I made for my tour in general. It said: TrinOnTour — THE FUCK SCHOOL LEG! And it had all the dates I did on there — Fresno, Oakland, Washington DC, Philadelphia, Boston, Uniondale, and both Newark shows — and it had the number of miles estimated that I did travelling: 7572 miles. I made that to show the band this is what I did for them on my first tour ever as a twenty-year-old still in school.

Each band member acknowledged me and I felt special. Kirk gave me a grin and a thumbs up. Rob gave me an ALRIIIIGHT and a air fist-punch. James nodded and grinned at me while he sang Nothing Else Matters. Lars and I made eye-contact during Creeping Death, where we sang along and air-drummed (yes, with the poster in my hand still), and then after Harvester of Sorrow he pointed to my sign. I blew him a kiss, and he patted his chest and pointed to me again saying, “Thank you!”

Right there and then I was happy with that. I couldn’t have asked for anything more! I got them to see the sign, and for me to thank them all for coming back to the States, kicking ass, and putting on an amazing show. I enjoyed the rest of the show where I was, singing along, rocking out. I saw Connie and baby Bryce on the side, who was the most adorable little almost-two-year-old you could ever see. The best thing I saw was him standing on the stairs of the Hammett/Ulrich pit with Connie watching him, and he had two drumsticks in his hand. And then he proceeded to watch his dad drum… and then he tried to drum with him. James saw this and he laughed REALLY hard because of it.

At the end of the show everyone scrambled for picks and beach balls. I was happy with nothing. I got a beach ball at Fresno, and a bunch of picks over the tours. I was happy with nothing but just thanking the band with my sign. Hilariously the band threw me picks! James gave me nod and he threw me a James black pick, but I let it go to the Air Force man besides me. It was the last time he was sure he was gonna see Metallica in the states before he was deployed, so he deserved it. Kirk threw me a jazz pick, and I let it go to the little kid besides me. Rob threw me a shit ton of bass picks, but I let them go to everyone else.

So here comes Lars. He only has one more drumstick left. He gave the second to last one to a friend of mine, Matt, on the rail that was facing his kit earlier. I get a hold on my poster as people go crazy around me trying to get his attention. Unlike the night before, where Lars didn’t come near my corner, he comes right in front of our corner, and crouches down besides the monitors. And he stares RIGHT at my posters and reads it from top to bottom. Cheekily, I gesture to it up and down with my hand and give him a shit-eating grin.

He and I make eye-contact. “What the FOCK, that many shows?!” I say, “Yep! I did it for you guys! Thank you!” Then he yells, “What, you want the stick?! YOU WANT IT?!” And I was like… according to my friend Kat, I put on the best Lars Ulrich I Don’t Give A Crap face and shrugged and said, “It’s up to you! I’m cool either way!” Well Lars laughed and he said, “Fuck it!” And he went over the monitors. By this point, I’m in shock. Even more than last night. He’s going to give me the drumstick?! AGAIN?! For the second night in a ROW?! Lars NEVER does that!! My friend Matt waited four years for another stick, and I get it in 24 hours!!

Lars crouches down to the very end of the stage, looks right square at me and he brandishes the drumstick. “You ready?!” he shouts, and I get out of my stupor finally to reach my hand out and say, “Yeah!!” He throws it, but it gets knocked out of my hand by all the crazy people around me. Lars IMMEDIATLEY yanks the shirt of the security guard next to him and yells, “Give it to her! Give it to Trin! She deserves it!!” The security guard smiles and says okay, and he picks it up and hands it to me. When I look up, Lars is patting his chest and pointing to me one more time, saying, “Thank YOU Trin!” And I blow him a kiss and grin like a goddamn fool.

I watch the band say their goodbyes to the crowd, then head out the door back to the backstage area. Lars winks at me when he leaves. Rob gives me an air punch fist. Kirk smiles. James grins at me. All in all, I’m pretty much a giggling happy mess by the end. I’m so happy I CAN’T cry. Then I find out in a text that Jeff put me and my poster on MetOnTour again, and I just have no words to describe how I felt in that moment.

I say goodbye to whatever clubbers I can find, then immediately find my friend Sarah waiting for me outside to the venue to take me to the bus stop to get back to New York City’s Port Authority, so I can go back home to school in Washington DC. And the entire time, all I can think of is just how fucking lucky I am, just how much I love Robb Flynn and Lars Ulrich, and how much I cannot wait for my next tour in the fall of 2009.

And to think. I thought Day One couldn’t be beat.

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