Cinco de Loco Part 3: Drunken old people rock my lobster legs

Jump to Comments

And then it was time for the B-52s concert! Fuck, it was a long day! So one of my brothers had gotten us tickets for our birthdays and he and another of my brothers were supposed to go with us but they bailed at the last minute. I didn’t know what to expect from the show and, in truth, had been half dreading it for weeks because it was on a Sunday and I thought the crowd would probably be super strange and we’d have to drive clear down to the Gothic for it…but then I decided to take Monday off so I’d been looking forward to the concert as sort of an adventure since I didn’t have to dread going to work the next day. We arrived at the show and the thing had been sold out for a while, but there were tons of scalpers outside trying to unload tickets. They were really going to eat it on that one. Anyway, we went inside and did lots of wandering during Eagle Seagull and we finally settled on a spot where I almost passed out like ten times or something. I think some old people were laughing at me too (come on, like you guys have never had two mojitos?! Cut me some slack…oh wait). It was insanely crowded and I felt sick and like I was going to die.

But hey, I didn’t. Eagle Seagull finished and we went to other side of the theatre where we found a pretty shockingly good spot, where I could sit on this railing when nothing was going on and then stand and have a decent view of the stage when the band came on. Next to us were tons of thirty-somethings. It seemed like we were at least 10 years younger than like 95% of the people there. There was this group of three couples to our right and the three guys kept looking at me. One of the ones seemed like a particularly lame suburban dude and was staring at me to the point of it being uncomfortable. His wife seemed like a real bitch and kept glaring at me (it’s not my fault, lady…maybe be a bit more pleasant and he wouldn’t be such a philandering dick) so that whole thing wasn’t the greatest, considering I was extra drunk and paranoid and sickly.

But then I was sort of struck by the greatness of it all. Eric called the crowd “massively adorable” and I have to agree. There were so many people who were just so happy to see the B-52s and it was really pretty refreshing. They weren’t hip or trying super hard to be cool or indifferent or something; they just seemed like regular people with regular jobs who are secretly huge B-52s fans that wear beehive wigs and stuff on the weekend…I liked it a lot, actually. I’ll just pretend like all people I deal with from now on are of this variety…and I think it will make me like them more (because hey, you can’t be all bad if you like the B-52s in some capacity. Speaking of which, my brother was originally going to bring a date and she completely refused to go because she hated the B-52s that much…which is just weird. I can see not being that into them or finding them a little annoying, but loathing them as much as she seemed to seems pretty unwarranted in my opinion).

I was also struck with the realization that seven year old me would’ve thought this was the coolest experience possible. Because the B-52s were, in fact, the first band I was ever really into. “Is That You Mo-Dean?” was my first favorite song (I loved, loved, loved singing “Going to the store for hot dogs and wine!”). Kate Pierson was my hero (and really, you could do a lot worse for heroes) and really, my obsession with them as a seven year old maybe set the stage for how obsessed I get with all my music now. So I was happy I was there, despite how drunk and exhausted I was and how long and weird of a day I’d had, because little Sarah would’ve loved that shit.

Anyway, they came out and looked older and stuff–except for the guitarist dude (Keith Strickland? Sorry dude, I can never remember your name) who happens to be ageless and look like he’s 28–but they were all really cute. Kate’s pretty hot for her age (and sure, it could be because of her still amazing hair…but I still think she looks pretty good besides) and Fred’s holding up pretty well (he was wearing this awesome tye-dye shirt with some sort of dog and words on it…and I really need to schedule an eye exam soon). Cindy’s showing her age the most (and she was wearing this horrible gold shirt that wasn’t flattering at all…but oh well). Anyway, they played some new stuff and it was pretty uninteresting and not all that catchy. Cindy was having problems with her voice all night and she and Kate did this new duet and it was really long and kind of boring to begin with, but it was even worse because she couldn’t really sing her part and Kate was having to carry the thing and…yeah, not that good. But they also played “Mesopatamia” and “Private Idaho” early on, both of which were awesome. I danced all around and felt slightly less sick. They didn’t play any of their other hits until way later and by then, I was more sobered up but also really weak and a little too tired to dance about. So they played “Rock Lobster” and “Channel Z” and all the people around us really went wild. Oh and they also played “Planet Claire,” which Kate sounded amazing on (she’s back to being my hero, I think). And they finally did “Love Shack” which I felt rested enough to dance about to, but there was this huge Craig T. Nelson looking guy that had moved in front of me at this point (following his jerky-dancing wife) and he had this tendency to clap super loudly and off the beat and swing his arms about while dancing and I had a big fear of being knocked out with one of his elbows (it happened at the Ghostface concert last year with some even huger dude) so I backed way up and ended up being smashed against a railing and couldn’t really dance. I was unbearably overheated and was almost going to take off my shirt (hey, I was wearing a tank top underneath. Geez) but then I didn’t want those 35 year old morons beside us to stare at me like I was some girl off of Girls Gone Wild or something, so I didn’t. I sat through like four remaining songs, thinking I was going to have a heat stroke.

So it finally ended and we sprinted to a 7-11 for water (it had never tasted better and all that, you know what I’m sayin’?) and then went and got donuts and finally arrived home. I was sober at this point, not having had anything to drink at the actual show, and spent over an hour in the bathroom dancing to M.I.A. and Justin Timberlake (I tell you, you’re really missing out on that Futuresex/Lovesounds shit). I think all the practice is really starting to help me look a little better than slutty; Eric said I was the best dancer around at the show (which has to be taken with a gigantic grain of salt for several reasons–namely, he’s my boyfriend and we were at a show surrounded by bad dancers–but still I feel a little good about it…lamely enough).

I finally fell into bed at like 3:00 AM (same as usual, work or no). Weirdest and most oddly eventful day I’ve had in a long while.

You’re really fucking amazing if you stuck around for all that. I just looked at the word count on this bitch (the three totaled all together, mind you) and it kind of made me want to commit myself.

You go back Jack, do it againnnnnnnnnn: Part 1 and Part 2.

1 Comment

Filed under Hot weekend mess

Tags: B-52's, Kate Pierson, drunk, dancing, old, hot, dehydration, The Gothic