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Has this ever happened to you? ... You want to meet Tori, maybe you have something you've wanted to say to her for years, or have some special little trinket you want to give her, or have a meaningful story you want to share that you just know in your heart-of-hearts would truly touch her, so you trot your little self to a M&G somewhere and then when the big moment arrives — it's finally your turn to speak and the air is sparkling with energy and magical pink unicorns are dancing through your head and you are so totally ready, yay! — you turn into the biggest doof on the planet and come off like a complete imbecile?
I know just how that feels.
Okay, your turn: Use the form at the bottom of the page to tell us your embarrasing story about how Tori turned you stupid. Dish the dirt and don't leave anything out! The stupider the story (and the funnier you make it), the more bonus points you get. We'll post the best ones here. C'mon, you know you wanna...
Okay, I live in Australia and I was at the Adelaide show. It was a great day, met some awesome people. My Tori M&G story isn’t as bad as some of the others, but it was still there.
I’d been waiting since, like, 11:00 in the morning, ‘cos I didn’t want to miss out, and subsequently I was third in the line. (My friends flew home early after going to her Sydney show just so they would be able to meet her.) Anyway etc., etc., she came out, and after the first two people she looked at me and I was slowly going to her (upon further scrutiny it reminds me of being a kid and wanting to go see Santa, but being so nervous at the time), and she’s like, “Hi, what’s your name?” and signed this photo thing I had, and I couldn’t remember any of the questions I wanted to ask her (like “what’s one of your favourite songs to play live?” or “are there any songs that you play when you feel you need a pick-me-up?”). All I could force out was, “You made me want to learn piano…” Not that bad a statement, I assure you. And she was like, “Oh, really? How’s that going?,” and I’m like, “Huh. Yeah. It’s not.” *lol* And in all my haste, I forgot to request my song (“Leather”), but I, um, kind of yelled it at her afterwards, when she was transitioning between people, and she seemed a tad startled but she wrote it on her hand and she said she’ll see how she goes.
Oh, I also asked if she found any Luna bars (some people may remember her improv in Melbourne asking what they eat for breakfast), and she kinda looked right through me, and then was like, “OH! I got some sent over from L.A.,” and I was like, “Oh, that’s good.”
But the worst moment was probably my friend’s meeting with her. The only two things she managed to get out, besides asking her to sign her copy of Piece By Piece, was:
friend: What’s Bliss about?
Tori: Whatever you think its about.
friend: I knew you were gonna say that.
But the real icing on the cake was her blurting out, “I wanna say something really smart and funny, but I can’t think of anything, so [followed by the one most hackneyed statements I hate to say to a famous person, even though I do on some level feel it] I love you.”
Yeah, so overall not as bad as some of the other stuff on here, but still not great.
Oh, and she did play “Leather”…
Before I could stop it from flying out my mouth: “Tori, can I just say, I LOVE the leopard jumpsuit. It’s my favorite.” Of course, it would have to have happened like that.
Here’s one of mine…
Before ADP came out, Tori did a radio appearance in Utrecht, Holland. It was all in all an amazing experience, I met some great people, and everyone had an amazing view of Tori because the radio show was taped at a cafe.
It was only after Tori did her last song that everyone stormed out of the cafe and onto the street outside where Tori had to go to get to her private quarters / dressing room.
It all went so fast and I had no clue if me and the people I was with would return back into the cafe, so I sort of freaked out and went all like, “Should I take their stuff or leave it or what?,” because they all stormed out.
So imagine me standing outside with everyone’s stuff in my hands and I couldn’t find anyone. Finally I just dropped everything and went all, “Okay, what now?” Then I saw these girls that I met earlier (I actually ran into them later in Oakland, big shout out to them!) and they had just given a present to Tori. In my freaked-out state, I just decided to go up to them and ask them what it was they got for her, because they told me about it but I hadn’t gotten a chance to see it. It was their time with her, but I was all like, “This is so my last chance today,” and it wasn’t an organized M&G so everyone was just improvising, storming up to her, so I just had to take this one chance. I asked them, “So what is it?” — in English, because they didn’t speak any Dutch — but Tori must have thought I was talking to her, because she turned around and said, “It’s a tour survival kit. How are you, baby?” And I was so stunned she’d said something to me that I completely ignored her and just waited for a response from the girls…
The next couple of days, the only thing I could think of was how stupid I was that I couldn’t even get a sensible word out, much less get anything signed. And the fact that I completely ignored Tori after she asked me a question…
So after reading all these other stories, I have to share my own. I have met Tori a few times and I am not entirely happy with the way any of them turned out. After being a fan for almost ten years, I finally got to meet her at the Orpheum in Boston on the Scarlet’s Walk tour (April, 2005).
I was with one of my best friends, Gary and we were both really excited to meet Tori for the first time. We got to the venue and waited with the others. The Orpheum is a great place for a M&G as there is only one way in and out, so you don’t have to spend half of your time trying to figure out where to go.
Anyway, I had all these things in my head about what I would say. I have a daughter about Tash’s age and I imagined us having a long converstaion about our children. Of course, I wanted to also talk about how much her music meant to me (all the usual things people want to say). Gary and I waited in anticipation and she finally came out. I thought I was going to pass out and I have never passed out before! She got to Gary first and she asked him if he wanted her to sign anything. He had no paper on him so he rolled up the sleeve of his sweater and asked her to sign his shirt. She looked at him kind of strangely and asked “Are you sure?” He said yes and she reluctantly took the marker and signed his shirt.
She got to me and I could not speak. I think that is the first time I have ever been completely speechless. She was looking at me expectantly and I was just standing there staring at her (I am sure my mouth was open!). A girl we had been speaking with in line asked if I wanted a picture and I turned and Tori put her arem around me and smiled. The picture was taken and she moved on. I was so bummed that I missed my chance to speak to her. I am glad that I met her again and I did get to speak that time (another stupid story for another stupid day.)
The stupidness does not end there. At another show, Gary had brought a CD he wanted to give to Tori and he saw one of her people at the venue. He stopped the man and asked if he knew Tori. The man looked at Gary weirdly and said yes. Gary gave him the CD and off we went. It was a while later when we realized that the man he gave the CD to was Mark, (Tori’s husband!). No wonder he looked at him weird. I wonder if Tori ever got the CD.
Sneak Peak Tour at St. Andrew’s Hall in Detroit.
I decided to show up at the venue at 9am to try and meet Tori. After 6 hours of “interesting” downtown Detroiters and a stray puppy that had worms (or Chinese food) coming out of its tush, my mental state was somewhat unstable. When Tori finally appeared, instead of telling her all the wonderful things she means to me, I busted out crying, I mean, the dam broke. She tilted her chin down and asked, “Are you okay?,” in that awesomely sincere way that she has about her. I nodded my head yes and she hugged me and I said something like “pretty ring” and looked at her wedding ring. She signed my thingy and said thank you and gave me an amazingly thoughtful look and it was over. Thirteen years I have worshipped that woman’s music and that’s the best I could do. She made me stupid.
First a little back story… For years now, I’ve wanted to meet the Goddess herself and show her the tattoo I’ve had of her for 10 years (this year). I’ve been to show after show hoping to be crafty enough, or early enough, to get to a M&G, but alas never was I blessed.
This time, at the San Diego show (12/12/07), I was coming from lunch downtown, and noticed a crowd around the side of the Copley Symphony Hall. I flipped a bitch, parked the car illegally, and ran towards the crowd. I was second to last in line, they closed the partition, and no one else was allowed; apparently she was getting cold (which, also on the side: my friend was cold as well, and she missed the meet and greet due to MAJOR lag time getting her coat).
Anyway… I waited with another friend who had made it in with me. I was thinking about all the things I wanted to say, how she’s touched my life, thank her, and tell her she’s AWESOME!
Well, it went something like this: “Hhuuuuh, you’re so pretty, I wanna show you something.” Then, as not to freak her out once I realized what I’d just said (note: big body guard moves in), I jutted in quickly, “I’ve been wearing your tattoo, and I want you to see it, and if it’s not too much … will you sign it? Oh, and I don’t have any paper or an album cover. Will you sign one of my blank checks?” She signed the back of the check gladly, and then I proceeded to lift my shirt up, noticing the large crowd wondering why I am taking my shirt off for Tori. Over my shoulder, I saw her smile at it, she said it was nice. Then I felt her oddly warm hand (since it was so cold out) touch my shoulder and the tip of the sharpie she was using to autograph other people’s trophies swept across my shoulder. I almost pissed myself, but I held it together and took a few quik pictures and gave her a hug and told her,“Thank you, you’re amazing.” i
I walked away feeling like a complete DOOF and a total waste of my time with her… I feel better now, after having the autograph tattooed on right over the sharpie ink! And I think back … I said thank you, and if my momma taught me anything, it was to be polite! But really, just the fact that she’s seen my tattoo of her and approves makes me happy.
[You can see photos of Josh getting the autograph inked over in the T+T Gallery. — Violet]
Ya, I’ll never forget.
RAINN auction landed me and my bestfriend, Spinny, backstage during the Plugged ’98 tour. We get shuffled in and Tori makes her way over. I’m racing and on the verge of a total freak-out. She talks to my friend for a little bit, then turns her attention to me and I panic and ask for a hug. We embrace and then she looks at me for something to sign, and I look at her and say… “Wow … you really do get sweaty.”
I immediately lower my head, bite my lip, and sulk, realizing I have just ruined the moment. So she proceeds to tell me it’s okay, and she signs my pass, which was “strategically” placed on my chest. So she had a time signing that. Miserable.
I walk off with my friend as he’s beaming — since she remembered him from past shows — and here I was with this comedic ridiculous Tori Story…
I was 18 then, almost 10 years ago, and that day still haunts me. I will have my chance one day. Let’s just hope I don’t make an idiot out of myself.
Wednesday, April 6, 2005. Warner Theatre, Washington DC.
I honestly thought this concert was going to be the death of me. A bunch of friends and I waited in line at a Ticketmaster in Vienna, VA (right outside of DC) the morning tickets went on sale and it sold out in, like, three minutes. We didn’t get tickets! This concert was going to be a wedding gift to my best friend Lauren, the person who first made me listen to Tori!
For weeks I prowled the shadows of eBay waiting for just the right seats to pop up. I was confident that I could get at least a set of tickets, but I wanted good ones for this show! It was supposed to be special. About three weeks before the concert, I lucked out on some front row balcony seats for which I paid some ridiculous amount of money … but in the end it was worth it. Lauren came to visit, we got up at the crack of dawn, and headed to DC to wait at least five hours to meet the Goddess.
We arrived very, very early and congregated with the other fifteen or so people outside the theatre, waiting for word as to where the meet and greet would be. (We met some rockin’ people, though, and spent the few hours between the meet and greet and the concert drinking at a local bar with them. We promised to keep in touch but it didn’t happen… I still wonder where they are. They’d traveled a long way to see the show.)
Finally they let us into the foyer of the theatre and we all lined up against some tables that were set up against the doors into the lobby. We waited and pushed and shoved for about thirty minutes when Smitty came out and told us Tori was on her way, that she couldn’t stay long, and to please keep things in order or she would have to be escorted out.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, she appeared. And so beautiful … more beautiful in person than in any photograph I’ve ever seen.
My friends Lauren, Josh, and I had seen many shows together, but we knew this was the time we would get to meet her, and I thought we were prepared. We’d all discussed what we would say to her when we met her. We were confident…
Now I should explain a little game my friends and I play with each other. It’s called “Chin” and it is really simple: we try to tag each other’s chins when we’re not paying attention. Chin tag, if you will. We’d gotten each other about a million times that day and laughed our asses off about it. It makes no sense to you readers, I’m sure, but to us it is hilarious!
Just as Tori was nearing me and I was ready to say something profound, my friend Josh grabs my chin and I turn beet red. I was stunned … stunned stupid. All I could do was shake Tori’s hand and stare at her. I’m sure she thought I was insane.
Meanwhile my friend Lauren could not stop telling Tori how pretty she was. I think she repeated “You’re so pretty” about twenty or thirty times before Tori turned to her and asked her name. “Lauren!” she replied, barely able to say her own name.
Tori’s response: “Good dose of Lauren … good dose of Lauren.”
Lauren is forever mortified and I still give her crap about it to this day. “Good dose of Lauren” and to be Chinned in front of Tori Amos … what a day.
I guess it beats the first time I got close to meeting her when I actually COULDN’T tell her my name and asked her (from about thirty people back) how traffic was. I can’t tell you how many “WTF?!” stares I got upon delivering that one.
So yeah … Tori turned me — and my friends — stupid.
[At least you can be grateful you don’t play a game called “Crotch.” — Violet]
It was at the Pittsburgh show on the American Doll Posse Tour that I made an idiot of myself with Tori.I have waited many many years for the chance to meet Tori, and when the VIP thing happened I though, “this is it”. After they herded us all into this tiny private room on the second floor of the theatre, Tori walked in and everyone seemed very calm and collected. I was in line behind this beautiful girl who was wearing an Elizabethan wig (it was Halloween, after all) and I was talking to her casually. I guess I had to convince myself that I was ready for this.
I let my girlfriend talk to Tori first, and she did very well, asked her about the tour with Alanis, got the SATY single signed and had her picture taken. After she was done, it was my turn, but I was holding both of our VIP bags and my Little Earthquakes record, and the strings from the bags were around my wrists and I began to get nervous. Tori is looking at me, the security guard is looking at me, I am holding up the line and all I could think of to say was, “I didn’t think I’d be this flustered when I met you.” Tori reached for my record and said, “Let me take this”, as I unwrapped the bags from my wrist. She signed the record and asked me my name, and as I told her I leaned over to hug her. She was very gracious and we took a photo together.
I figured this was my moment, my chance to tell her how much her music meant to me. I wanted to say something like thank you for being good wine in an ocean of beer, but instead I stumbled and muttered, “I have a favor to ask, if you can … it’s an easy one.” She nodded, and I spoke in what felt like some kind of time warp — like when you just received bad news or something and you go totally numb and cannot speak — and I said, “I’ve been to seven shows and you haven’t played Silent All These Years for me yet.” She wrote the song on her hand and all I could say was thanks, and then I walked away.
I blew my big chance to tell her how much I love her music, how she made me love the piano, how she made me more compassionate and inquisitive and able to enjoy my life better. I guess she has that effect on people.
Oh well, I’ll try to do better next time.
Dew Drop Inn Tour. Paramount Theatre late show (Tori’s third show in two evenings at the venue).
My friend and I have front row seats which I actually stood in line at a Ticketmaster outlet to get, you know … the old-fashioned way. (I suppose some of you young’uns are unaware that we use to have to stand in line for tickets.)
My friend and I are dressed to the nines. She is wearing a turquoise sequined gown, I am wearing a black crushed-velvet sweetheart neck w/lace trim gown. We took happy pills (come on, lighten up, it was the 90s).
Anyway, both myself and my friend are feeling fine. We love the feel of the velour seats … and my velvet dress and each other and the piano and Tori. From what myself and my friend remember, the rest of the front row consisted of boys in hoodies with their hoods up. I kid you not. Was it the E? Not sure, but we both saw this. Let me tell you Tori KNEW what we were feeling. She sussed us out straight away.
Before playing Icicle, she asked the audience about hymns (some of you remember this). Some one behind us shouted “Jesus Loves Me!” I laughed. She asked me, “What?”, and I repeated, “Jesus Loves Me.” She rolled her eyes and said something to the effect of “oh, yeah” so many times. (Now, why oh why did I not come up with the name of some lovely hymn as the clever girl a couple of rows back did? She said “Balm of Gilead”.) There is a bootleg out in bootleg land and you can actually hear me say it. Mortifying.
But all ended on a bright note. She did not perform the heart-wrenching CALS, but did do London Girls and pretty much sang it to us. So, in our fond memory we believe she did not “need a loan from the girl zone” that evening because we entertained her as much as she entertained us. Though a bit embarassing, a fond memory indeed…