Well, I know everyone has a miracle story of some sort, but I wanted to go ahead and tell mine as a sort of "Thank-you" to the person who saved my show on July 4, 1999.  So, here goes.I'll start off by admitting that it was not a very smart move to take the mushrooms an hour before the show, on lot.  I should have done what I always do, sneak em' in and take em' when I am comfortable with my surroundings. But I was a lil' too excited on this particular day, and I ate em'.  An hour later, I find myself screaming out the names of a few friends I had lost at one of the gates.  The show was about to start, and I wanted to find everyone before I went in.  I began to get a little frusterated, so I reached into my backpack to get a cigarette.  With ticket in hand, I was ready to go.  As I lit the cigarette, and my friends appeared, I dropped my ticket. In a daze I watched my beautiful red mail-order ticket fall to the ground. As I leaned down to pick it up, something flashed right under my feet.  It was a head full of black dreads, and a hand.  A hand that grabbed my ticket out from under my feet in what seemed to be a millisecond. As he vanished into the crowd, I began to panic.  What just happened??  Was that a hallucination??  No...it was real.  A sold out show, and my ticket stolen from me, right underneath my eyes.  I didn't know what to do.  I blacked out, the mushrooms taking control over me.  I was in shock.  Crying, screaming and making a scene.  No one could do anything.  A million people wanted a ticket to this show, and there was no way I could find a new one.Then it dawned on me.  What happened to me was wrong. I marched over to the security guy.  I told him what happened.  He told me to go to Wilcol.  I went.  I was a mess.  When I told the Wilcol guy my story, he just sorta looked at me, in a humorous way, and mumbled something I was too fucked up to understand.  I was doomed.  What kind of person would believe some tiny hippie-chic's story about a stolen ticket??  Anyone could make up that story.  But then, he disappeared.  I was just standing there.Dumbfounded.  I turned around, and began to walk away, when a hand touched my shoulder. It was the Wilcol guy.  As he handed me a ticket, and told me to enjoy the show, I stopped crying.  I couldn't believe it.  There was nothing left to do but smile smile smile!!  I had a ticket again!!  I was going to the show!! What made this guy believe me??  Why did he do that for me??  It was truely a miracle.  I had a wonderful show, and I owe it all to the Wilcol guy.  so,there it is...Thank you.

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