3) What's the worst experience you've ever had on tour?
There was an As Friends Rust show in Beauvais, France (outside Paris) in 1998 that was pretty nightmarish. The show was a Tibetan freedom benefit, and sort of a small, all-day, indoor festival. We were touring with Discount, and that evening, prior to playing, some attendees told us that they'd seen some neighborhood kids smash the window of one of our vans. We had a look and realized they'd stolen a bag.
A bit later, we were told that the same kids had returned and were loitering outside of the venue antagonizing show-goers. I confronted them pretty aggressively, threatening one of them with a glass jar of peanut butter. They calmly said, in broken English, ‘We'll be back soon.’
Later, as we were getting set up, we'd noticed we forgot the power converters in our van, so I went out to get them along with two friends / roadies named John and Peter. While we were digging around in our van, we heard a stampede of people, and saw that these kids had indeed returned, and brought with them a few dozen friends and family. They had weapons -- guns, sticks, bats and dogs -- and were starting shit with anyone who happened to be outside. Then they all seemed to notice us at our van, and charged toward us.
John ran down the street while Peter and I jumped in the van and slid the door shut. We each laid down -- he across the front bench, and me across the bench behind his -- and within seconds the mod descended upon our van. They started rocking it, as if to flip it, and starting smashing the windows. Glass rained down on us, along with spit and all sorts of French yelling and cursing. At one point they slid the door open and tried to pull Peter out by the ankle. I covered my face to shield against the glass (and prevent being recognized) and peeked once only to see the barrel of a pistol aimed at me, which the guy then moved over the seat to Peter's head and back.
Suddenly and inexplicably, it all stopped and they took off running. John was found knocked unconscious a block or so away by either the butt of a gun or the power converter he'd been carrying. We didn't play, instead driving back to Charles de Gaulle Airport to get a new van. The drive was miserable, because it was the dead of winter and there were no windows in the entire van, including the windshield. We had our sleeping bags over our entire bodies like socks.
Sadly, this was not the only encounter with guns on that tour.