Morbidly depressed? Time for a new post!
So, after that last post, I needed a couple days to specifically not post. It was all killer-depressing, and I don't much care for those types of posts. So now we get the ultra-crazy post!
Pertaining to the story that is about to be unearthed, Chris and Dan can attest to the truths that lie herein:
Death Cab for Cutie show. What a bizarre experience. Not because of the show itself, but because of particular individuals that we met in conjunction with the show. I'm not even sure if met is really the right word to use here. But anyway, the show was in downtown Detroit, and since I now work and drive there all the time, I was elected for driving duty. Little did I know that 30 minutes later, as we pull into the Fox parking lot ( a staple from my hayday in the Ilitch Holdings, LLC ), I biff. I saw a lady in the booth, so I instinctively started to drive to her before noticing that there was one of those little push-for-tickety things. Stopping about a foot to far from it, the woman leans out and says it's cool, just pull up. And pull up I did, only to hear her say "What's the matter, you don't think I'm beautiful?" Thinking it would end there, I reply back (with apparently much cajolery) "Oh, no, you definitly are. So much so that I just got nervous." But it definitly didn't end there. She leaned out a little again and said, and I quote, "That'll be 8 dollars, baby. That's not too much, is it?" Pardon me? "No, that's perfect," comes my now bashful reply as I was stunned that what seemed to be an innocent comment was quickly becoming prostitution. I hand over a twenty, and she takes it like she's about to get naked on it. Terrifying. "Honey , you want your change back?" Yeah, and my innocence, thanks. "Yeah, that'd be great." But no, that wasn't enough. She now counts back to me my change, two fives and two singles, as if she were seducing 30 rich men all at once. Lip-licking and all. If I had a manual, you would have heard my tires squeal for miles. Seriously. Just wierd.
But then as we're driving away I stop and think, "You know, if we were in that booth all day long, that might not even compare to the things we might start doing to entertain ourselves..."
Truf.
Walking to the doors, we pass a kid who used to live down the street from me when I was like 8. Nothing too fancy, just wierd to see him there.
We managed to completely miss the opening act in all ways. We actually walked in as the lights were turned on and their last chord played out until the power was cut for them. I'm talking perfect timing for avoiding them. Anyway, we mill around, watch Franz Ferdinand (who were pretty good; I totally dug how apparently every member of the band actually played multiple instruments). After this, the temperature and local "everyone's breathing on my neck" humidity got a little high, so the roomer and I went for a touch of water. As we went up there, this girl totally did a huge double take on Chris, and I figured she knew him from the way she stared, and he stared back a little bit as if he knew her, too. Actually, he was just trying to figure out why she was staring in the first place. He asked me "why don't we ever talk to people like that? Just start up a conversation. The least I could have said to her was 'hi,' and seen were it went from there." Within seconds of reaching the bar, this totally new woman told us to get in on the round of shots she had just ordered up for her friends whom were nowhere to be found. Hesitant at first, it seemed wrong to make one person drink five shots. After talking to us a little bit, we discovered that this 35 year old mother with a son at home was here only for Death Cab, and that the opening band had sucked anyway. Also, she had a friend Jen, who though she didn't look to be quite as old, was obviously more aged than us. And i'm not talking about fine wines. Speaking of wine, alcohol: she bought us another round, for apparently no reason. Lemon drops both times. Mystery woman (her friend was Jen, but who the crap was she??) then proceeded to heavily push us to watch the show with her. This is when I thanks God that Dan had stayed behind. We told the ladies that we would meet them at the side after we got our friend. As we all waked back through the crowd, this woman almost grabbed my hand twice. Lucky for me I coat my wrists in canola oil for just these instances. Bee line away from them and back to Dan, where life is normal. Oh, and we had a good view of our highschool History teacher who was fired for "relations" with a Junior in my class. The girls he was with was probably about that age again. Way to go, Mr Carem. May you forever molest children.
Moral of the story: don't get pearl inlays in your key chain. Bad idea.
Pertaining to the story that is about to be unearthed, Chris and Dan can attest to the truths that lie herein:
Death Cab for Cutie show. What a bizarre experience. Not because of the show itself, but because of particular individuals that we met in conjunction with the show. I'm not even sure if met is really the right word to use here. But anyway, the show was in downtown Detroit, and since I now work and drive there all the time, I was elected for driving duty. Little did I know that 30 minutes later, as we pull into the Fox parking lot ( a staple from my hayday in the Ilitch Holdings, LLC ), I biff. I saw a lady in the booth, so I instinctively started to drive to her before noticing that there was one of those little push-for-tickety things. Stopping about a foot to far from it, the woman leans out and says it's cool, just pull up. And pull up I did, only to hear her say "What's the matter, you don't think I'm beautiful?" Thinking it would end there, I reply back (with apparently much cajolery) "Oh, no, you definitly are. So much so that I just got nervous." But it definitly didn't end there. She leaned out a little again and said, and I quote, "That'll be 8 dollars, baby. That's not too much, is it?" Pardon me? "No, that's perfect," comes my now bashful reply as I was stunned that what seemed to be an innocent comment was quickly becoming prostitution. I hand over a twenty, and she takes it like she's about to get naked on it. Terrifying. "Honey , you want your change back?" Yeah, and my innocence, thanks. "Yeah, that'd be great." But no, that wasn't enough. She now counts back to me my change, two fives and two singles, as if she were seducing 30 rich men all at once. Lip-licking and all. If I had a manual, you would have heard my tires squeal for miles. Seriously. Just wierd.
But then as we're driving away I stop and think, "You know, if we were in that booth all day long, that might not even compare to the things we might start doing to entertain ourselves..."
Truf.
Walking to the doors, we pass a kid who used to live down the street from me when I was like 8. Nothing too fancy, just wierd to see him there.
We managed to completely miss the opening act in all ways. We actually walked in as the lights were turned on and their last chord played out until the power was cut for them. I'm talking perfect timing for avoiding them. Anyway, we mill around, watch Franz Ferdinand (who were pretty good; I totally dug how apparently every member of the band actually played multiple instruments). After this, the temperature and local "everyone's breathing on my neck" humidity got a little high, so the roomer and I went for a touch of water. As we went up there, this girl totally did a huge double take on Chris, and I figured she knew him from the way she stared, and he stared back a little bit as if he knew her, too. Actually, he was just trying to figure out why she was staring in the first place. He asked me "why don't we ever talk to people like that? Just start up a conversation. The least I could have said to her was 'hi,' and seen were it went from there." Within seconds of reaching the bar, this totally new woman told us to get in on the round of shots she had just ordered up for her friends whom were nowhere to be found. Hesitant at first, it seemed wrong to make one person drink five shots. After talking to us a little bit, we discovered that this 35 year old mother with a son at home was here only for Death Cab, and that the opening band had sucked anyway. Also, she had a friend Jen, who though she didn't look to be quite as old, was obviously more aged than us. And i'm not talking about fine wines. Speaking of wine, alcohol: she bought us another round, for apparently no reason. Lemon drops both times. Mystery woman (her friend was Jen, but who the crap was she??) then proceeded to heavily push us to watch the show with her. This is when I thanks God that Dan had stayed behind. We told the ladies that we would meet them at the side after we got our friend. As we all waked back through the crowd, this woman almost grabbed my hand twice. Lucky for me I coat my wrists in canola oil for just these instances. Bee line away from them and back to Dan, where life is normal. Oh, and we had a good view of our highschool History teacher who was fired for "relations" with a Junior in my class. The girls he was with was probably about that age again. Way to go, Mr Carem. May you forever molest children.
Moral of the story: don't get pearl inlays in your key chain. Bad idea.
posted by Dave LaGory at 17:22
12 Comments:
I'm thinking of writing a picture book about a whiteout blizzard. I was going to start, but then I realized I was already finished.
That sounds all too familiar, acutally. I wrote a book called "Picture Book for the Blind" for my 11th grade English teacher. It was about 70-some odd blank pages with nice covers and everything. For whatever reason, she actually really liked it and thought it to be a good idea. Public education for ya.
She probably was high on drugs, as all public education teachers are.
Do you think it's funny to make fun of the blind? Because I don't.
I prefer the mentally retarded.
DOUG!
SHANNON!
JOHNNY!
....it's ok, dave hates deaf people.
Wow Dave you sound a little sensist...i think i made that word up. In any case, it means you have something against people who don't have all their senses.
First you make fun of the blind and now you hate deaf people. What's next, huh? Baking delicious cakes for people with no taste?????
KRISTI!
...I thought you might be feeling left out b/c no one had screamed your name yet.
Isn't Simon Says a really stupid game, and a song by the shins, and the name of a blog?
I'm the non simple green on the left.
Yes to all three, and a PBase gallery! But what on Earth is that green bottle you're so excited about?
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