In 95, Phish played in my hometown of Lowell, MA. This was my first show (as prior to this I was a Dead snob), and I was psyched that the boys had come to play for me. So, of course I got absolutely rip-roaring drunk! 

After the show, I went to hang out at the former Lowell Sheraton Hotel. At that point in my life, I often went down there to practice piano, since they had a killer Baldwin baby grand. While rattling off Bach's Tocatta and Fugue in D-minor, I look up to see who's saying "Nice job," and it's none other than Page, along side the rest of the band. 

I finished the song and then told them how much of great musicians they are. They advised me to stick around because they were going to play with a local band later in the lounge. So, I went up to the lounge to wait, and a few hours later, I was accosted by the police.  They carded me, discovering that it was a month before I was legally able to drink. 

They took my info and booted me out into the lobby. I passed out, shit-faced in a chair, and was awoken by none other than Mike Gordon.  He hooked me up with a ride with this gorgeous girl named Forest (I still have no idea who she was). A week later, I was summonsed to court, and the Sheraton was shut down for a week, and I just want to apologize for my absurdity.

 - Bob Rafferty