Yesterday I went out to a gig. A Monday night. How thoroughly debauched of me. I felt like a bit of a loser for the first while - I was there on my own and I didn't kno w many (any) people at the bar. But you know, you get through these things, in my case by laughing at the support band. They played a heady blend of hard rock and teen angst. Every song I kept thinking about how I could incorporate:
-My parents don't understand me
-I'm just going to weedleewee rock out with my guitar in my sock smelling bedroom
-Give me some Mountain Dew and Cheesy Poofs
-WOW
Perhaps the ultimate moment was when they broke out the bongo drum and had a tribal break down. It brought back beautiful memories of Billy Idol's immortal hit "Congo Man" which incidentally I must ask a collague, his biggest fan, about.
Things started getting a little more peculiar when patrons (and here is the Advanced Hair reference) Some of them young men kept coming up and talking to me. I suppose they must think I remember them or something. Were they trying to appease me because I knew about their reading habits? It was rather strange.
Luckily by the time the main act was on more acquaintances had turned up and I could feel semi-cool. As cool as you can feel with a strict deadline and work at 8.30 the next morning.
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1 comment:
hahaahahahahahahaahah
great post. =) =)
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