By Joseph Allen
A good woman is hard to find, especially if you’re a rigger. That’s my job, though—I climb high steel in arenas and rig tons upon tons of concert equipment. The more vacuous the music, the more dazzling the doodads. Over the last few months, Katy Perry, Ke$ha, and Lady Gaga came through town with over a hundred tons of gear to hang combined.
I generally steer clear of the performances, but not always. So there I was, my eyes peeled open like Alex from A Clockwork Orange, stifling the urge to puke while suppressing an erection as gaggles of plastic booty shook across the stage.