Who Is Eric Lannon? Meet The Richmond Bro Notorious For Sleeping With People’s Girlfriends And Being An Asshole
Eric Lannon just doesn’t give a fuck.
“I was one of those kids who grew up where the rules didn’t apply to me,” Eric Lannon tells me at the beginning of our phone call. “I got whatever the fuck I wanted, whenever the hell I wanted it. I had the best of everything, had no regard for authority whatsoever, was raised where I could do whatever the hell I wanted and there were never any consequences.”
I didn’t know who Eric Lannon was until he friended me on Facebook. He messaged me a couple times about the massive following he had built, but I had no idea what he meant. Who the hell was this guy? More importantly, who the hell did this guy think he is? What rabid following was he taking about?
“If you are between the ages of 18-30 and/or a southern frat boy, you know my name, as well as the whole [Widespread] Panic and Phish scene,” he wrote in his first e-mail to me.
“I have somehow become, I guess, a quote unquote ‘urban legend’ throughout the whole south and through the Phantasy Tour scene. How, I dont know. I guess being an asshole growing up, growing up in the family that I did, having the the opportunities that I had, going to the schools that I went to, dating the girls I dated, etc.”
Because all you have to say is “Phish” to get my attention, I asked Eric to talk on the phone. I vaguely remember him telling me to “Google him” during that first phone call, but that could just be selective memory. But after I did, that narrative became much more clear. My conclusion: Eric Lannon is a man with a reputation:
In certain corners of the Internet, Lannon is a legend. His folklore started out on Phantasy Tour, the de fact anonymous message board for jam band fans, especially in the Phish and Widespread Panic scene. Over the years, Lannon has been a fixture at these shows. The stories about his antics started making their way to Phantasy Tour and other message boards related to Phish, like this one about an incident in Richmond:
Pete was driving down Cary St. in Carytown last night, which those of you who know Richmond, is a very busy area with foot traffic and slow moving car traffic. Pete is sitting at a light waiting for it to turn green, when his passenger door opens up from someone who randomly walked up from behind. It’s Eric….
Pete is extremely agitated, but lets him ride in the car (didn’t really have a choice bc eric wouldn’t get out), to his house where a guy who is not Eric (let’s just call him Eric) says he needs to meet someone to take him to the airport . Pete immediately knows he is full of shit from past experiences, and the email I had forwarded him earlier in the day.
Pete texts me and says he is somehow with Eric, and he says he was pretty freaked out by him. Kid was wearing the same clothes that he was in the story, and apparently the kids jacket I told him to call the cops on him without him knowing, but Pete stays calm.
Well Pete tries to take advantage of this opportunity to attempt to try and figure out what the fuck this kid is doing for food, work, housing, and to see what kind of story he would feed him. While Eric indulges in Pete’s food and beer, he is just spilling lie after lie like usual.
Finally, not getting anywhere with him an hour or two later, he says “you gotta go man, I’ve heard enough of your bullshit, I don’t even like you, and neither does anyone else”. This enrages Eric, and refuses to leave, and asks Pete why he would think that, and everyone hates him.
Well Pete shows him the email that I forwarded to him At this point, he figures out that I sent Pete the email, and he reads it in its entirety. At this point Eric goes into a rage, and starts calling Pete names, and his girlfriend a whore. Telling Pete to give him my address, or he will beat the shit out of him and his girlfriend (who just got home from work during the altercation) Pete told him to get the fuck out or he is calling the cops. They get physical and Pete whips his ass pretty good, and Eric barricades himself in the bathroom after getting bloodied up. Pete told Eric he was calling the cops. Pete goes downstairs in his apartment building, to wait for the RPD to show up bc Eric still wouldn’t come out of the bathroom. Anyone who is familiar with the RPD, knows they are not the most prompt force on the street.
So 20 minutes pass and they arrive. Pete takes them upstairs, and it appears that Eric has made an escape from the second story balcony, because he had left the door open. Pete is looking around and realizes his ipad, and other things were missing from the apartment . He filed a report against Eric, and I believe he has a warrant for his arrest in VA now.
There’s a story about him in an altercation at a wedding from Phantasy Tour:
My buddy got in an altercation with Lannon on Saturday night after a wedding, at a bar. My friend recognized him and walked up and called Lannon a homeless piece of shit Lannon immediately responds “What is that a fucking Joseph A Banks suit, ugh you are TRASH!” They exchanged a few punches/shoving real bro shit and then lannon was kicked out of the bar.
And a story about someone kicking him out of their house in Boozeman, Montana, where he told me he lived for a few months:
Eric Lannon is in Bozeman. We just kicked him out of our buddies house last night. He owes us almost three hundred bucks and we’re supposed to be meeting up with him tonight. If anyone wants anything from him we have contact with him so PM myself and we’ll figure this shit out. We are also making flyers of this motherfucker and putting them up around bozeman/livingston/belgrade.
And stories about him getting kicked out of people’s apartments in New York City.
He’s in New York City now. he was staying with a friend of mine who just kicked him out after googling his name
And rumors about him being arrested for impersonating a police officer in Virginia Beach and skipping out on court dates, complete with custody records:
And stories about him getting kicked out of bars:
There are similar Eric Lannon stories on Old Row.net (a fraternity message board that’s popular in the south), the LSU/SEC football message board Tiger Droppings, the ski message board New Schoolers, SECrant and Reddit, where quite a few threads are dedicated to him, including one in r/LetsNotMeet, warning “The sociopath couch surfer “bro”. He might end up on your doorstep.” My personal favorite is this colossal missive from a year ago:
My roommates and I got lannon’d back in October 2012… My roommate wrote this up and sent around to all his friends and lots of people up responded with similar stories. Anyways here is our story, sorry for the length. I changed all the names and created new account, who knows what this kid will do once this charade comes to an end.
On Friday I get a call from a random D.C. number. I get these calls more and more often because I use my cell phone for work when I am not in my office, so I answered. On the other line the guy says “Hey Joe whats up, this is (says name too fast to understand) I got your number from Billy do you think you can do me a little favor?” He said he needed a ride from a hotel downtown to Reagan airport which is right across the Potomac River, so i agreed even though it was 4:30 on a Friday in D.C. when the traffic is beyond brutal. I immediately call Billy to try to figure out who the hell it was that called me. The caller had made it seem like we were buddies, but I couldn’t recognize the voice. I thought the voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly who it was. I immediately call Billy to ask who it was that called me. With no response from Billy I head to the hotel totally blind. He finally calls back and says it was this kid Eric Lannon who went to Benedictine. How the hell this kid knew me is beyond me. I’ve never met this kid before, never heard of him, nothing. So after I hang up the phone with Billy I am right in front of the hotel. I see this very douchey looking tall wide kid walk towards my car smiling, wearing pink Vineyard Vines plastic sunglasses, and flip flops to go along with them (it is the middle of October).
We head towards the airport and he starts to tell me this story about how he doesnt have his cell phone, keys, wallet, etc because they are in the lost and found at the airport. He tells me about his big time job with a “commercial real estate hedge fund” and that his bag got lost on his connecting flight the day before. He needed to make some meeting so his company sent a car to get him at the airport. He was talking to the luggage people about his bag when the car got there and he “left his wallet and phone on the counter there and went and got in the taxi.” I honestly believed this story because he was such a spoiled brat from a wealthy family I believed he got hooked up with some ridiculous job he wasn’t qualified for and I believed he was stupid enough to leave all his important shit in an airport.
Well turns out that the lost and found at the airport closes at 5:00pm. He gets back in my car and says he is going to stay with his friend Sam in Georgetown who he stayed with last night. I say I will give him a ride back there becasue that is right next to my house. He asks for a clean shirt and I oblige so we go back to my house, under the impression he will go hang with Sam when she gets off work in an hour. Back at my house, i offer him a shirt and then Donnie comes home. Donnie is from New York and Eric plays the name game like he does with everybody, establishing mutual friends in order to gain trust from people he doesn’t know. Eric grabs a beer out of the fridge and I kind of laugh thinking why is this kid getting comfortable? Right then I take the usual Joe route and decide to head to Meg’s house.
Everyone has known one or two guys in college who tag along to a party or would always show up in your dorm room even though he is not friends with you, and that’s what I took Eric for. So I head to Meg’s then Donnie calls me to join him up at the local bar around 10 so I walk up. Lo and behold, Eric is there with Donnie. I finally get a chance to talk to Donnie without Eric around and tell him, “Hey, dude Eric is not my friend. I had no idea who he was three hours ago and this has gotten kinda ridiculous.” Of course, Donnie is taken aback because Eric has been saying we are great friends and that we’ve known each other for years.
This guy is absolutely miserable to be around and he seemed to find a HSC guy to talk to, so after an hour I took the opportunity to leave and walked over to Meg’s house. She was taking a real estate exam saturday morning so after waking up early I head home. Low and behold, Eric is sleeping in my bed. Now I’m pissed off. I had a nail in my tire and some other shit to take care of so I took advantage of being awake early on a Saturday for once and ran some errands. I come home at 11, about an hour before the Black Bears game and woke his ass up. I told him to get up and I would drive him to the airport to collect his shit.
He makes me park in the short term parking lot instead of waiting next to the terminal is, probably because he knew I wanted to ditch him and that would be a good place to do it. We walk across the entire airport and get to lost and found. It’s closed on weekends. I’m pissed, he laughs and says he will get it Monday. We drive home after being at the airport for about an hour. I ask him about Sam and what the story was. He says he is going to the Eastern Shore to go to a surprise birthday party and stay the night there. We go home and my friends are hanging out watching football. He hangs around and starts drinking Donnie’s beer who is down in Richmond for the Romney event with Matt. I make Eric call Sam every 20 minutes but she doesn’t pick up. Sooner or later it is 5 o clock and eric has downed about 20 of Donnie’s beers and has played hours of shitty music over our speakers. My roommates and I are sick and tired of this guy. I finally tell him, “look, let’s get in my car and I will drive you to Sam’s house down in Georgetown.”
We get down there and he finds her house, get’s out and comes back saying it is locked. I make him call Sam on my phone and he calls and “she picks up.” He has a two minute conversation with her where she and her friend are going to come pick him up… from my house. I take him back to my house and drop him off, I wanted nothing to do with him. My roommates were pissed and sent me not so nice text messages, as you can imagine.
He walks in, says his friend is coming to pick him up, grabs a beer, throws two logs in the fireplace, and sits down. Certainly isn’t acting like he is about to be picked up. Steve texts me asking if he had actually called his friend. I checked my phone and the “two minute conversation with Sam” actually lasted about 20 seconds. He had a phony conversation. Right then I knew something was definitely not right. My roommates know he didn’t have an I.D. on him so they make a plan to go to the bar where they know he can’t get in. As they start to leave, Steve tells him he needs to sit outside to wait for his friend so he can lock the door. They walk to the bar and I meet up with them. We think we may be in the clear because he isn’t going to sit outside freezing. The kid is wearing flip flops, mind you.
Now the story turns to about 2 a.m. Steve and Mike are at home getting ready to go to sleep. Eric shows up at the front door, much to their dismay. He claims he just needs to get the shirt he initially wore on Friday. He walks to my room, retrieves his shirt, then comes back downstairs and sits on the couch. Steve and Mike start yelling at this kid to get out of our house. He claims I am taking him to the airport in the morning. They say “Joe doesn’t know who you are!” and that he is not welcome. Well this enrages him, he starts saying we went to high school together, have been good buddies, that I gave him my jacket to wear, etc. Steve and Mike are more forceful now telling him to get the fuck out. He gets in their faces, says things like “I can buy you” and “Do you know who the fuck I am” and “You’re a fucking peasant” and my personal favorite “You are 24 and still live in a fucking frat house.” Anyways, he leaves the house for good.
We all went to the Redskins game Sunday and had a great time, joked about how ridiculous this guy was and thought he was gone forever. Thought that he stayed somewhere and would eventually get his shit from the airport on Monday somehow.
Monday comes around and Donnie and I start asking people about this guy. I called the Sam lady and tried to get her side of the story. She says he pulled the same stunt on her in Kiawah this past April. Said he left his phone and wallet in a briefcase on the private plane he flew down on. He stayed with her for 5 days. He had one bag on him and when they searched it one afternoon, it was full of mail not addressed to him and phones that didn’t work.
We called other numbers he called on Saturday and these other guys had similar stories. People who barely knew the guy, maybe from crossing paths at HSC or went to high school together but were not friends.
Turns out the guy doesn’t have a job in commercial real estate that causes him to fly to NYC all the time, nor does he live in Charleston. His parents in Richmond have apparently disowned him and according to Eric, there are warrants out for his arrest in South Carolina. He has done the same routine to other people in Richmond and other places. He goes couch to couch, lies and lies and lies to people who take him in.
He called me endlessly yesterday and ended up leaving my a message saying he had just gotten out of the hospital and that he had surgery on his ankle because he fell off of a deck Sunday. We wanted Donnie’s jacket back, but after weighing our options, we decided to not do anything.
If there’s one thread to Eric Lannon stories, it’s that they almost all involve getting kicked out of somewhere by someone. A news story on Richmond’s WTVR went viral about Eric Lannon getting kicked out of a Mellow Mushroom pizza location in Carrytown this past fall. The University of Richmond issued a campus-wide alert about him being spotted around, leading to this story that racked up 1.4 MILLION likes on Facebook for the University of Richmond’s student newspaper:
A man identified on Wednesday as Eric Lannon is said to have a history of theft and swindling, according to campus police. He has reportedly slept in at least four University of Richmond student apartments or houses and has received money, food, alcohol and clothing from numerous students.
“He seemed like a nice guy,” said one of the junior Richmond College students whose house Lannon stayed at Tuesday.
Lannon is believed to be from Richmond, according to various sources. He has been spotted on Richmond’s campus several times during the past three weeks, students report. All students quoted have asked to remain anonymous in the interest of safety.
A campus crime alert released Wednesday afternoon cautioned community members not to interact with this person, and to contact URPD immediately if he is seen on campus. Lannon was not in police custody as of Wednesday night.
Lannon is known to manipulate his victims into providing shelter, food, money and transportation under false pretenses, according to the police report. At least 25 Richmond students have confirmed that they have interacted with him in the past three weeks.
On Tuesday night four junior Richmond students met a man they later identified as Lannon in the E. Claiborne Robins School of Business. Lannon told them he was looking for his sister, whom he was staying with.
Lannon borrowed one student’s cell phone and computer but could not contact anyone, the students said. When he wasn’t able to contact his family by 4:30 a.m., the final student in the group of friends, identified here as Sam, was preparing to leave the business school.
“I felt bad for the guy,” Sam said. “I didn’t want him sitting in the rain.”
Many in Richmond and throughout the Southeast have stories about encounters with Lannon. But it’s impossible to know if any of these stories are true. Three days ago, a Reddit thread in r/RVA claimed “Anyone else have the pleasure of seeing Eric Lannon get arrested last night?,” complete with some story about Lannon getting in an argument with a bouncer and getting arrested for outstanding warrants. Lannon vehemently denies the story. “See…this is the bullshit people say about me. It’s out of control,” he tells me on the phone.
The Internet message board stories about Lannon are similar to the old “They’ll never believe you!” tales about Bill Murray. They all add to the legend, which takes on a life of its own. He’s the Tucker Max of 2015, but the tales and persona are not of his own writing — they’re stories about that spiral out of control on Internet message boards. Are they fact or fiction? Did that Eric Lannon story really happen?
But this doesn’t answer my original question: Who is Eric Lannon? I started talking to him with some regularity on the phone, trying to truly understand what was fact and what was bullshit. He is an enigmatic personality. He’s a character. He’s charming and charismatic, but uncuffed and holds no punches.
He’s 100% an asshole, but he doesn’t deny that.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to objectively accomplish my goal of knowing who Eric Lannon truly is, but he agreed to let me record a half-hour phone conversation. Here’s who Eric Lannon is in Eric Lannon’s own words.
How did the myth of Eric Lannon start, if you will? What were you like in college? How did this thing really start to snowball?
Eric Lannon: I already told you, I was one of those kids that grew up where the rules didn’t apply to me. I got whatever the fuck I wanted, whenever the hell I wanted it. I had the best of everything and had no regard for authority whatsoever and was raised where I could do whatever the hell I wanted and there were never any consequences. I was just a huge asshole to a lot of people growing up. Because I was able to do a whole “Who the fuck do you think you are?” kind of deal. Between that and sleeping with a lot of guys’ girlfriends and being an asshole to people, I guess people didn’t really like that very much. I don’t know.
It’s one thing to be an asshole to a lot of people if that’s who you are. It’s something totally different for you to be projected as a cultish, folklorish figure within southern fraternity life…
I think a lot of it has to do with people don’t really know who I am. They read a bunch of stuff and it’s these people that don’t know me. They just say whatever they want to say because it’s the cool thing to do.
I went to a bar and asked somebody if they knew who Eric Lannon was and the guy was like “yeah, yeah. He was at this Disco Biscuits show a couple years ago and took a shit on the floor of the show.” Nobody even questions it, everybody just believes it. I’ve never been to a fucking Disco Biscuits show before in my life and I think the Disco Biscuits suck.
A lot of the myth originated from Phantasy Tour and the jam band scene. Let’s talk about that…
I’ve seen Widespread probably 150-160 times. Everywhere from Vegas to Red Rocks to throughout the Southeast. Everywhere and anywhere. I’ve seen Widespread a lot of times. I’ve seen Phish a lot of times, from The Gorge to Saratoga and throughout the Southeast. I’ve seen a lot of shows.
You asked for a good story? A good jam band story? So it was a year ago from last August in Montana.
The Mickey Hart Band was playing and it’s a Wednesday or Thursday night and they just crossed back in from Canada. It had sold out and I didn’t have tickets yet. I wanted tickets so I walked over and saw the band unloading and went straight up to the band and said ‘Hey, I don’t have tickets. Y’all are sold out. Is there any way we can figure something out? And we started talking to them and apparently a couple of people in his band were from Richmond. They said “We just came back from Canada, we don’t have any pot. Do you know where to find some? You find us some pot, we’ll take care of you.” So I’m like… “give me two minutes.” And we’re in Montana, where it’s everywhere. And so I was like yeah I got you. They gave me $200 and said go find as much pot as you can for $200 bucks. I went and found him an ounce of pot for $200 and next thing you know I had my backstage pass.
I think a lot of it also has to do with the fact that I have balls of steel and I don’t fear any consequences because I never had to suffer any consequences.
How were you in college? That’s the very beginning of the folklore, if you will:
College, not so much. In college I got whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I didn’t have to worry about anything. I was pretty out of control in college, I’ll put it that way. I went to Hampden Sydney. I don’t know if you ever heard of it —-
Yeah. An all boys school, right?
Yeah, it’s meant for very privileged kids, if that makes sense.
Do you think because of that your friends started rumors like… “this kid’s crazy!”
I think a lot of it had to do with after that. After Hampden Sydney, I was out of control in New York. When I say out of control, I was out of control. Then I would come back to Richmond and live a New York City-esque lifestyle, if that makes sense. Just the type of partying that goes on in New York, but back in Richmond where it’s completely different.
Do you think people were just like “holy shit, what the fuck are you doing? Calm down?”
Yes and I was also that guy who would walk up to your girlfriend right in front of you, talk about what a douchebag you are, and wind up cheating with your girl right in front of you. And then make your girlfriend realize how big of a loser you are kind of deal.
Ever get punched in the face because of that?
Not because of that, no. Well, yes, I have. I have. But there are disclosures with that, so I can’t really talk about it.
Got it. When you were in New York City, what kind of stuff were you doing?
I was partying my ass off. Dorian’s for happy hour, then I’d have lunch downtown. Eating dinners at Gramercy Tavern, Colicchio and Sons, just living the lifestyle. Pulling all nighters with a Saudi Arabian diplomat’s son at the Four Seasons. That kind of deal.
Any good stories of that phase of your life?
Of New York? There were some.
I saw Phish on Jones Beach on Fourth of July a few years ago. I was out at Jones Beach and ended up having a hotel room in Long Beach, but after the show I had somebody drive me back into the city on Fourth of July night. For some reason I was adamant I was gonna go to Dorian’s because I was fucked up. I just really wanted to go to Dorian’s. I ended up going to Dorian’s by myself. I ended up picking some girl up — she was up visiting her friends from I don’t even know where — but convinced her to come back out to Long Beach? So we went and picked up a twelve pack, got on the Long Island Railroad, went out to Jones Beach, and got a cab out there.
I was so fucked up that I kept telling the cab I was in Jones Beach and I forgot I really had a hotel room in Long Beach. At this point I was fucking pissed and ready to get into bed, so I was like “just find me the closest fucking hotel that’s not sold out.” So I think we wound up in like Nassau County or Islip at a random Holiday Inn or something like that. I ended up sleeping with this girl and woke up the next morning and had no fucking clue where I was.
I got in the shower and came back out and she was still in bed. I was like “Hey, I need to go run to the front desk and see if they have a charger.” I just went straight to the exit door of the hotel, saw a bunch of Phish fans and said “Hey, I’m stranded here, I think my hotel is in Long Beach is there any way you could take me over there?”
They took me over there and I ended up in Saratoga later that day.
Obviously I’ve been an asshole and that’s kind of what’s made this myth up. I think with the whole Widespread and Phish tour, I think I slept with more dude’s girlfriends and girls…
There’s not a lot of girls in either of those jam band scenes…
Yeah, well somehow I tend to find them. Let’s put it that way. I don’t know. I think the other thing is a lot of these people who hate me. Do you think I really give a fuck about what these douchebags making eight dollars an hour has to say about me?
Is that the general consensus though? That people think you’re a douchebag or do you think most people are like… “oh?”
They think that I’m a pompous, arrogant, asshole. And I also think that none of these people know me or know anything about me. But it is what it is.
How do you think the internet has played into that?
Because everything you read on the internet is true, right?
It’s one thing to be known, but do you feel like…
Dude, I was talking to a girl who went down to Dominican Republic to see Panic a couple weeks ago and she said my name was brought up more than anybody else’s fucking name. I wasn’t even there. Like I haven’t seen Panic in two years.
Why do you think that is?
Because these people are fucking losers who live pathetic lives and have nothing better to do.
Clearly like you enjoy the whole scene though, right?
I enjoy the scene with the right people. The people who have nothing better to do than sit around and write shit on the Internet are losers.
Let’s talk about when you were in Charleston…
I was down in Charleston, partied my ass off, slept with a shit ton of girls. Woke up in Charleston place with numerous women who were married. From there I came back to Richmond one weekend and ended up getting stabbed. Robbed and stabbed and ended up in the hospital. I told my father that I was done with the East Coast and he was like where do you want to go? I said Jackson Hole then I moved out to Jackson Hole and then I split time between there and Montana and ended up back here (in Richmond) about a year ago and here I am.
You wanted another good story? About the whole ballsy, “I don’t give a fuck who you are [drops out].”
Last year, last football season the Denver Broncos opened up on a Thursday night. That weekend, down in Denver and we ended up going to that game at this bar that’s right outside where the Rockies play. And the bar was packed. We were sitting out in this little side field or yard or whatever where they have cornhole and tables or whatever. And there’s a bunch of these big dudes and they’re getting girls everywhere and bottle service and everything for the team. I’m like, “I bet you those motherfuckers play for the Broncos.” They’re big ass dudes and there’s no way they’re getting all these girls and attention if they’re not. So I walked over and said “So you pussies the fucking JV team for the Denver Broncos?” and they looked at me and said “Hey motherfucker!”
I said, “you heard me, you’re not that fucking big, you’re not that badass.” The guy was like the starting offensive guard and he was like “you guys got some balls, don’t you?” and I was like “yup” and at this point I’m shithouse drunk. Next thing you know I’m sitting down with three of the offensive line starters and a defensive end is buying me shots and it’s shit like that that I’ve done that I think pisses people off.
That’s kind of cool…
I know, but then I have these service industry douchebags . I’ve drank more people’s beer and bourbon and slept with more people’s girlfriends than anybody. There were a couple stories that were told about me. Then it became about a person who had everything handed to him on a silver platter, so everybody wants to see me fail.
You say that people get mad at you because everything’s been handed to you on a silver platter, but you don’t deny that, either. That’s kind of what you opened up with. And you say you don’t really know me. So who is the true Eric Lannon?
Well… everybody grows up eventually. Does that make sense? I’m not gonna lie. Growing up, I was an asshole to a lot of people. And I’ve realized that. Everything I’ve gone through with my health. Or even just the fact that I spent 63 days in jail. Everybody eventually knows what they want. Now I do charity and feed and clothe the homeless and help people out. But I still party my ass off.
When you were partying your ass off, how were you doing it? How were you getting by financially to be able to live like that?
Uh… My parents. Plus I can charm the socks off of just about everybody I want.
Let’s get back to the stories. Tell me more about your Charleston era…
There was a lot of drinking, let’s put it that way. A lot of drinking. We’d have the cocktail waitress deliver our drinks to the practice putting green at The Ocean Course on Kiawah Island and get so fucked up that they wouldn’t even let us play golf that day. Then the gentleman that I was with at the time, he was the one driving, I was like “fuck it, let’s go to the sanctuary and get massages.” He had a longboard on top of his Sequoia. I had never heard of “ghost riding a whip” before. I had no clue what it was.
The next thing you know he stops the car in the middle of the road, blares the music, gets on top of his car, and the Sequoia is just going down the road. We have all these people behind us looking at us like “what the fuck is he doing?” He is sitting up on top of this paddleboard. He ghostrode the whip a good half a mile down the road. All these people were looking at us. I was convinced we were gonna go to jail.
Any other stories about Panic tour and Phish tour?
Let’s put it this way, Disney World is the least friendliest adult place in the world. So we were in Orlando. It’s the least friendliest adult place in the world because there’s no drugs, there’s no hot women, and everything’s fucking expensive as shit. I was there for a charity event, playing golf. We went out in downtown Orlando. It was myself and another gentleman who’s fucking out of his mind.
At this point it’s like five in the morning. And this family’s checking in and my buddy who he’s with is like “Do you guys know where to find any prostitutes around here?” The mother and the father both look at us. They couldn’t even — they put their kids in the back of the car and they ended up taking off. Like, I don’t think they ever checked into the hotel.
We had a bet who could take a golf cart. You know how at Disney World they have the big-ass shuttle golf carts? They’ve got like this 6-person shit and they’re gas-powered. Well sure enough this son of a bitch started that bad boy up. We were staying at one of the big ass resorts downtown and they’re cruising the parking lots with this fucking golf cart and I’m like, “where can we valet this bitch?” We’re going up to valet it and he stalls out on the valet ramp. At this point they know who we are. We’re the only people without a family and kids and shit, so automatically they all know what room we’re in and who we are.
When the security comes, we take off running. We get lost, we get back to our room and the head of security is sitting there with the Orlando PD. We somehow talked our way into not going to jail that night. At this point they’re like, “The next time you guys do anything, y’all are gone.”
Oh and one time in Charleston some girl asked what I did for a living, I told her I piss success. It was Sunday brunch and we were sitting outside of the Blind Tiger, a bar, and she kept asking me what I do and I told her I piss success for a living. And we were about to leave, I grabbed a plastic cup, went in the bathroom, pissed in it. Just little shit like that.
What about when you were in Jackson Hole? Same stuff?
No dude, after that, when I moved out West I had just gotten out of the hospital and finished with getting my spleen removed after being stabbed.
Got it, doesn’t sound like it ended very well for anyone.
I’ve got plenty of stories… Trust me, I’ve been more places and experienced more parts of this world than 99% of people have in my 26 years of life. I’ve stayed at the best places, I’ve eaten at the best restaurants. Everywhere from telling some woman to not be pissed off to making a bunch of money.
Rehab? That’s kind of fascinating…
Let’s put it this way. Rehab started every day with shit that came out of my mouth. My therapist made it clear that I wasn’t an addict. I wasn’t an alcoholic and I wasn’t a bipolar. He said “you’re nothing but a brat who doesn’t understand the word no.”
And I was like “No shit. Do we really need to pay this much money for this?”
I wasn’t feeling it. Every morning we started our day off with meditation and this hippy chick would bring her guitar out. She had no goddamn clue how to play her guitar and how to fucking sing. And rehab’s all about honesty.
She looks at me and she’s like Eric, “what’s going on?” And I’m like do you really want me to be honest?
And she’s like “Yeah.”
I’m like, “Your singing spiritual bullshit doesn’t really do anything for me.”
That was on a Tuesday. She never came back to work after Thursday.