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Picture the Goo’s traveling down the East Coast, “in basically a windowless van,” stresses ex-Goo’s manager Artie Kwitchoff, of the transportation used. “At least four guys, drinking beer, eating bagels and peanut butter, driving straight through - no ventilation.” One sleeps inches from the ceiling atop a pile of gently rocking equipment. Two more cram onto a tiny mattress on the van floor. Someone drives. They arrive in Miami “bruised, poorly rested, and shaking from fear and confusion,” and after the show they wind up separated - a move that will forever haunt them.

“George and Robby completely disappear,” Kwitchkoff says. “So we crash with a fan who says he’ll take us home with him. Pretty soon we realize we are being driven way too far away. We get there, and this guy’s house is a nightmare. I refuse to go in, and feign sleep in the van. But Johnny and the guitar tech stay in the house with this guy, his sister, and a bunch of other people. “In the middle of the night, Johnny hears this guy trying to put the moves on his own sister! ‘Don’t start that shit with me again’ she’s screaming, fighting him off. Johnny, who is already a physical wreck, is now an emotional wreck. He comes out to the van, gets in and just sits. He is ashen. He’s mute. The guitar tech is wordless.

“We go look for Robby and George: They’ve slept on the beach - totally wasted. We haul ‘em in the van. Johnny finally just passes out. Everyone is quiet, and I pull on the highway that takes you from Miami across the state. It’s called Alligator Alley because alligators roam it freely, and every ten feet there is a sign: ‘ Do not get out of your car,’ ‘ Warning: Alligators,’ ‘Do not stop’. “We’re tooling along. So much so that I miss the only exit for gas for about 100 miles. Robby finally wakes up, looks at the dash and says, ‘Uh, hey, man, we might wanna get some gas.’ I look down. The needle is pinned on E. We are driving on fumes, there are alligators all over the place, and we have missed the only exit for gas. Johnny and George sleep peacefully through this; I am sweating blood.

“Finally, we see an exit and just as we begin to roll off of it, honest to God, the engine dies. We push the van up the road, find some gas. We arrive in St. Petersburg. We do the show, and Johnny is so furious he completely wears himself out, gets totally hammered, dives into a fountain and splashes everyone. “The show ends, and Johnny, dripping with booze, sweat, and fountain water, seeks his revenge by opening up the van doors and simply passing out - soaking wet - on top of George and Robby. We take off. We head for the next gig.”
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