Jeff and I were discussing Michael Jackson. It was nearly 8:00. The doors had opened at 7:00, but I was trying to be an adult and not a whiny teenager, so I wanted to get there for the main event, rather than standing through the opening band. I was trying to act like it was NBD– no big deal we weren’t there at 6:45, tickets in hand. No, in fact, at 6:45 I was standing around in my bathroom, blowing drying my Rapunzel-like hair, fixing my makeup, deciding what to wear. No more of this kid’s stuff — I was finally going to do a concert right.
So, when it was time to go, I asked Jeff if we should walk to the theater. It was a mile away — no big deal. He said, “Let’s ride our bikes.” Oh fine, no problem, cool. Let’s go get them…15 minutes later, after Jeff finishes zip-tying my shifter on (thanks, babe) and after I run up to get the tickets, which I’ve forgotten, and after I yell at Jeff that he absolutely DOES need his helmet, thank you very much, we’re on our way. It’s around 8:20, and I am repeating in my head, You’re not that late, calm down. According to 3eb’s website, they were due on at 9:15. No big deal. No sweat.
Well, when we arrived at the theater, I was hot and sweaty, but too excited to care. We parked our bikes, and I raced across the street. Ready to go, tickets in hand.
Once inside, I promptly bought a t-shirt, stuffed it in my bag, and then went to get a beer. (I am not one of those people that buys a shirt and then wears it to the concert– I think that is tacky. Old shirts from other tours, fine. But not the same tour, no no no.)
We then plotted a place on the floor, and waited. 8:40. Great. Plently of time to stand around and drink our beers. And got hot. And sweaty. As I stood on the floor, contemplating what I was going to write to you today (Is it bad that I am always walking around with a blog monologue in my head?) I got hotter, and hotter, and hotter. Sweatier, and hotter. And I had no hair tie, and layers of makeup on. 8:50. Ugh. Why do people go to concerts? Concerts where the venue is hot and people smell and half of the audience doesn’t know the unabridged words to Semi-charmed Life? Sigh. The time was ticking, and I was beginning to think that maybe this was a terrible idea.
But then, around 9:10, the lights dimmed a little. At 9:20, the drummer began a lovely solo, and out came SJ. Saying:
“Horny & burned out now is how it always ends for me…”
And I knew why I was at the concert. For the next roughly 2 hours, I jumped, sang along, took video, photos, danced, shook my booty, jumped some more, and squealed especially loud when they played Jumper. I tried and tried not to be offended by the audience members who talked through songs, didn’t know the “new” ones, and insisted on making out all around me with their loved ones. I mean, really, do the words
“Two lines of coke Id cut with draino
And her nose starts to bleed
A most beautiful ruby red”
really scream “kiss me now, please”???? I think not. But I persisted, enjoyed myself, and ignored everyone else.
Yes, folks, that’s right. I am in love with 3eb at heart, and no matter how sweaty, old, and tired I get, their concerts never get old. I will never be too old to stay out until 12:30, sweat through my clothes, ride home (stopping on the way to get In-n-Out), and fall asleep with my towel on my head after rinsing off.
This is why I love Jeff: Because he went to this concert with me, didn’t complain at all, bought me a beer, suggested we should go to In-n-Out after the show, bought me a shake and fries, and pulled the towel off my head and hung it up to dry when I passed out from exhaustion. And then, proceeded to drive me to work this morning (I normally bike.) That’s love.
