Confessions of the Only Woman on a Rock Star Tour Bus

One roadie’s guide to surviving nomadic life in the hardest-partying business on earth.

Illustrations by Molly Fairhurst

“You will be the only lady on board.”

My friend Gene stresses this point when he offers me my first roadie job. And I’m so thrilled by the idea of going on tour that I’m undaunted by the warning I detect in his voice. After having spent a year seeking meaningful employment in my recently adopted hometown of San Francisco, Gene’s job offer holds real promise.

The band is a known commodity from my New York punk rock days, the testosterone-fueled mosh pits of my youth. That scene doesn’t scare me. I’ve been the only lady plenty of times, as a bass player and lead singer in a handful of bands, and doing administrative work for music festivals. But I’ve never been the only lady in a traveling entourage, living cheek to cheek with a pack of guys in the cramped living quarters of a tour bus for two straight months.

“Just think of it as an extended family outing with a bunch of cousins you’ve never met,” says Gene, whose real name, like the others in this piece ha…