It’s hopeless….

It’s hopeless….

Back in my wannabe rock star days, I used to go to concerts and shows pretty much every night of the week. Good ones, bad ones, it didn’t really matter. And it got to the point where it was near impossible at the time to name a present day band that I hadn’t seen, probably multiple times.

I’ve saved almost every single ticket stub which I’ve actually considered renting out a public storage unit in which to keep. And I have so many memories, I should write a book. But don’t worry, I won’t cause I know the stories are only amusing to me. But I will pain you with a few because without them, I wouldn’t have an entry, and I already skipped yesterday… So, memories:

Like the time I went to see the Beastie Boys** and the guy standing next to me who kept asking me for my phone number by saying “Gimme the digits” got stabbed in the shoulder (it wasn’t me, I swear) by a complete stranger, for no reason at all, and the digits guy didn’t even realize it. I had to tap him on the non-bloody shoulder and tell him “Dude, you’ve got a knife in your back.”

Or like the time I thought I was buying tickets to see The Cranberries, even though I wasn’t a fan, but I guess I hadn’t learned how to read just yet because I actually bought tickets to see The Cardigans and spent the night listening to some perky broad singing about kissing her by the broken tree house or some shit.

How about the time I went to a Beck show and decided I would give the mosh pit a visit since I didn’t picture Beck fans, in their polyester lesiure suits, to be all that rough. But, the second that Beck came out and started singing a song called “Satan Gave Me A Taco”, the geeks turned into Slayer fans from hell and started throwing me all over the place. Within the first 5 seconds of the show, my most favoritest red sneaker came off and I spent the rest of the show hopping around on one foot looking for it. I never did find it, but by the end of the show, when everyone had cleared out, there was a graveyard of shoes up front. I dug through the pile, but to no avail, so I actually had to take a stranger’s scuzzy ass shoe and wear it home. I know, eww, but Athlete’s Foot seemed a lot more appealing than having to take Philadelphia Public Transportation home in a bare foot.

And the time that I had my purse draped over my neck at a Metallica show, and I was right up front against the gate. A bunch of big guys decided they wanted my spot, so they all started pushing their way through the crowd. My pocketbook somehow got flipped over the other side of the gate with me still attached to it on the other side and started to strangle me. The guys didn’t notice, they just kept pushing. Finally, one of the guards saw me turning purple and unleashed me.

OH! And (last one, I swear) 2 years ago when I went to see Billy Idol. I had only had Lil Miss about 3 months prior and I was all hormonal and down in the dumps and feeling completely gross and all that post-birth junk. But then? Billy Idol called me gorgeous from up on stage and kissed my hand (Obviously he hasn’t given up the drugs just yet). Then he went and did the same thing to about 15 other girls – but I bet I was the only one that had just given birth, damnit!

Anyway, I really do have better stories than this. These are just the first that are coming to mind. And I’m a bad story teller. But, the stories could go on. And on. And on. But I won’t bore you with any more. Still, they were all fun in their own ways, even though I never did find my beloved red sneaker.

I used to swear that I would NEVER get old and stop going to shows. But now? It’s been months since I’ve gone to see anyone. And it’s killing me! So, I decided this morning that I would change all that and went to Ticketmaster and searched through a list of upcoming events, trying to find something that would make me cool again. And got tickets to see 2 different shows. Wanna know who?

Sesame Street Live

and

Dora The Explorer: Pirate Adventure
Sigh.
** And just for the record, I HATE the Beastie Boys.

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