You know the drill. You’ve worked and worked, slaving on the road night after rock-n-roll night, going from fan to follower to roadie and now you are the man. As in manager. As in Capital R-oad Capital M-anager. Traffic cop to the stars.
You know you’ve arrived when instead of it being your job to pick out the red jellybeans from the lead guitarist’s favorite munchie, your job is to pick out the lucky guy whose job it now becomes.