Love Fest San Diego
The early days of Rave On Magazine... We
knew little about how to get on the guest list for a party, but
still felt that we should not have to pay. For Love Fest
San Diego, we never talked to the promoters. We never really
even tried. So we get to the party with eight people, not all
of whom are even on the Magazine, not all of whom I even knew.
Cover was $30. $240? That seemed crazy, I already paid for my
We went straight to the guest list booth and acted like we should be on it. Not only were we not on the guest list, no surprise, but they were rude. OK, everybody is getting into this fucker for free.
We jump in the elevator and ride up two levels to the parking lot. We walk accross the parking lot and down the stairs. We are standing at the last door before the back entrance into the party. Only ten feet away. Ten feet, four security guards, and eight tickets. Nicole says "Let Mark do the talking." Thanks for having confidence in me Nicole.
So I push the door wide open, hold my press pass up, and go straight up to the first Security guard I see.
"We have been here since eight P.M., is there any way we can possibly drop off some of our equipment (what equipment?, I dont know) in the car? It is really hot in there."
The security guard says "Get inside that door right now, or you can't come back in."
I acted frustrated, and shook my head, until we were 50 feet into the party. We got kicked into the party. All Eight of us. Nicole and all of her friends hugged me. I felt like a Superhero.
|What you can learn||People want to put as little effort into their jobs as possible. They do not want to think. If you create the idea that you really need to leave the party and come back in, they cannot help but to think that you were inside. Whether or not they question that idea is up to how you present it.|
Electric Daisy Carnival
I am walking up to the security checkpoint
of EDC, when I see Jason's Newports taken out of his pocket and
placed on a table by secutiry. For two seconds, his pack sits
on top of a stack of confiscated cigarettes. As soon as the security
guard turns his head to pat Jason down, the cigarettes are between
the elastic band in my boxer shorts, and my tummy.
The nerve of these security guards to try and take my friend's cigarettes, in my presence, none the less! They are going to pay for this. I hold the contents of my pockets in my hands, above my head, and instruct security on which pockets to search. Obviously, I have nothing to hide - he thinks. The smokes are in.
So now it is time to turn in my ticket, which I bought for $26. I see that the ticket collector is keeping the ticket, and the stub. Think fast... "Hey, how you doing, man?"
"OK" says the security guard. I give him my ticket, and hold my hand out expecting the stub...
"Hey dude, I still have my ticket stub from last year's Electric Daisy, I really need that stub, please."
"Here you go." he gives me back the whole ticket.
"Thanks a lot, have a good one."
I go around front to the ticket booth, and ask another security guard to help me sell my extra ticket.
"They never said that this was going to be a six hour drive. My friend heard that, and told me to sell his ticket for him, can you help me?" The security guard finds someone to buy my ticket for $25. At the end of the party, with the help of security, I found an extra ticket on the ground. So I used my ticket, I sold my ticket, and I still have my ticket. I have my cake, and ate it twice.
|What you can learn||If you need to beat security, it is much easier when they are cool with you. They will let you get away with enough for you to get your way. Treat them like they have all the control, and you need them.|
by Channel 36
After getting into Cyberfest for free,
there was no way that we were going to pay to get into Nation.
For weeks, we had been sending Channel 36 email about how we
wanted to do a story about Nation. In one reality, they never
In another, they did.
Having their email address was enough for this most elaborate mission. I took an existing email from one of the cool promoters that put us on the guest list for his party (Zelda II, I think), and copied it into Word. I changed a few details such as: who it was from, what party it was regarding, and the date it was sent. I said that it was from "CHANNELTHIRTYSIX@aol.com", changed the name of the party to "Nation," and made sure to date it four weeks before the party, to allow them the opportunity to believe they forgot about it.
We get to the party. I ask the first security guard I see where the guest list booth is.
We wait in line, patiently. When it is our turn to speak to the girl at the guest list, I have my drivers liscence, Rave On Magazine Press Pass, and Rave On Magazine business card ready for her.
"Hi, we are here with Rave On Magazine." I say. She checks the guest list. We are not on it. I act mildly frustrated, but not upset or worried. "I do this every week," I tell her. "We do not go to parties unless we have email confirmation at least two weeks in advance."
On cue, she asks "Do you have the email?"
"I think so..." I check my pocket, and sure enough, there it is. A printout of what appears to be an email from CHANNELTHIRTYSIX@aol.com. "Here."
She looks at it, reads it, and tells one of her peers "That is our email address."
As she reaches for the tickets, I ask her if she can give us three instead of two, since we want to have one person cover each room tonight. Without saying a word, she counts out three tickets, and hands them over, with a look of sorry-for-the-inconvience on her face.
I thank her, and try not to act like I just pulled a fast one. Marcus hands me his Kamel Reds before we are about to be searched, and take a few for my self in the Hardcore room.
|What you can learn||Know who you are dealing with, if you can immitate what they might have said, they will believe they said it. Don't doubt yourself, and others will not doubt you either.|
Pasquel, or whatever his name is told
me on that Rave On Magazine was on the guest list for this event.
At the venue, my instincts told me not to go through the
Guest List. We went up to the back gate, and tried to talk ourselves
in. It didn't work. We went to the second back gate, and they
told us to go to the third back gate. After talking to the guy
at the third back gate for ten minutes, we said fuck it. My persuasive
skills were not working, and he had already decided that he did
not want to let us in. We started to jog around front to the
guest list at the front gate, about a half mile. As we reached
the first back gate, a truck was going through it and the gate
was wide open. I held my press pass up, and jogged straight in.
I did not even look at the security guard. Sam followed my lead.
We were literally coming up on the tent that was the center of security. There was no way to slip by them without being noticed, so I went straight to the head of security, told him that we were doing a story on this event, and asked where I could find the event promoters. He said that he could not help me, and was rude about it. Oh well. Sam and I went in to the party through the back of a vendor's booth, which was very awkward, but free.
Later I found out that the guest list had grown too large, and Insomniac had decided to about half of the people off of it.
|What you can learn||Trust your instincts. Go with the flow. When cooperating with secutiry does not work, do the exact opposite. Treat them like dogs. Act as if they should not dare question who you are, what you are doing, or even look at you. Also, don't expect to be on the Guest List just because someone tells you that you are on it. Some of these parties have over 3,000 people on the Guest List, and a lot can fall through the cracks.|