Most of the bands I was involved with personally were not yet high-profile enough to have roadies. Fellas carried their own guitars, stashed drum kits in their own vans, etc. (Unless you count the USC marching band, which did have equipment handlers and student wranglers and I don’t know what all. But I think that does not count, plus I still had to suffer the weight of carrying my piccolo everywhere in my coat pocket. (This explains why I switched from flute to piccolo.)
So, I have only one good personal anecdote about a roadie, but it’s in my novel. I won’t go into specifics because I’m hoping someday the novel will be published and then I’ll want y’all to buy it, but it involves Huey Lewis, a 1966 Cadillac, and a loose distributor cable. Kinda sounds like a riddle or a joke, doesn’t it?
After that encounter, in a later previous life, I got free books to review. Hands down, the most entertaining free book I ever got was Road Mangler Deluxe by Phil Kaufman. I suspect a lot of those stories fell into the category of Too Good to Check, but man, what a guy. I highly recommend getting your hands on a copy.
My only other experience with roadies is via Jackson Brown.
I have a good friend who spent a lot more time around the music scene, but none of her stories about roadies were particularly funny—or savory. She took a pretty dim view of them overall.
Anyone got any stories to redeem that population?
Arwen Adams Bicknell 
The closest I have to a roadie story is a security guard at the old Tampa Stadium. I was working the Rolling Stones/Living Colour concert, and I had a backstage pass. So, we were literally allowed to go anywhere, and I was told that I could even stand in between the front row security, and the stage. So, when the Stones came out, I was standing 1 foot from the stage. Right before the first song (Start Me Up), I got tackled by a security guard, and I jumped up, about to get in his business. Just then, pyrotechnics went off. Ironically, had I stayed where I was standing, my face would’ve been blown off. So, I calmly thanked the guy, he gave me the head nod, and I went backstage. I ended up watching the rest of the show from the control booth at the 50-yard line, safe from any fire or bombs!