The Rockstar: The Real Story

So, the other night my partner in crime "J" and I went to our new favorite band's show. We purchased $18 tickets online... put our best rock gear on... and headed out to the show. After a small problem finding the venue (J is totally directionally challenged) and a mile walk in the freezing cold (I thought we lived in AZ! WTF?)... we arrived!! We picked up our tickets at the will call... got patted down by kids... and received our over 21 "you can drink" orange wrist band of honor. And then we entered what can only be described as middle school. Immediately we make our way through the underaged crowd... and beeline for the bar, where we are greeted by one other orange banded concert-goer who says "finally some more people who can drink". By now we have had time to scan the crowd and I am embarrassed by where I am. Literally in punk rock middle school. I'm not really sure if there is anyone over the age of 16, with the exception of the few parents milling around, making sure their rebellious teen doesn't get into any trouble. As our band takes the stage, we look to our right. J says, "Oh look, he looks about our age." "Yeah," I respond "and he just put in ear plugs!" The band starts to play and J looks at me, motioning to a space in the middle of the crowd. "You must be kidding... I don't want to be surrounded by them" (them, of course, being the unpredictable teens) "Oh come on! I wanna see." I give up... and we move in. Just as we get settled, J gets jabbed from behind by the wild elbow of an obnoxious pre-pubescent boy. I secretly laugh. I told her. But she stands her ground. The band is playing, our favorite. They are hypnotizing and for a minute I forget I am in hell. Then I blink... and it's over. "What?" J exclaims, "That was like 20 minutes." "Really?" I say. But she's right... we paid $18 for 20 minutes. If I were picking up a hooker, that would have been a great deal... but for my favorite band, nothing short of disappointing. "Let's get out of here!" J commands. I agree... I've never felt so old or uncool in my life. As we begin tromping through the parking lot... making our mile treck back to the cars... J yells "Hey!". I turn to see who she is yelling at... and it is none other than two members of our new favorite band. J wastes no time in telling them how we feel. "You guys sounded great, but 20 minutes??" "Yeah, sorry" the lead singer responds. "Its the tour. We only play a 20 minute set." I now chime in... "We came all the way out here to see you guys, we're a little disappointed." "Yeah," J echoes my frustration, "and we were the oldest ones in the room". Nothing like meeting two members of your favorite band and laying into them right away!! The conversation continues... names exchanged... bum a smoke... headed to Vegas... two days off... where are you going... what's cool around here... we have your cd's... were at the last Tempe show... blah... blah.. blah. I'll just fast forward to the good part. The lead singer... we'll call him "C"... says "I'm supposed to stay here for the rest of the show, but maybe I'll try and skip out and buy you guys a drink since you came all the way out for 20 minutes. Take my number!" This is the part where I am waiting for J to react... hello... I know you want to sleep with him... pull out your phone! Finally my psychic message gets to her and she takes his number. He tells her to call it right away, so he'll know her number. She does.. he leaves himself a funny message. "Hey C... Remember to call J and living lawless. You're an idiot." We part ways.. J can't wipe the smile off her face. We leave, call about 45 minutes later to tell C where we're at. Have dinner, a drink, J gets discouraged. I pump her up. We move on to another bar... another drink. J feels defeated. We leave. Just as I suspected... J gets a call from "C" at 11:30. "Hey, we're headed out of town. Just wanted to tell you how nice it was meeting you both. Next time we're in town, I for sure owe you those drinks. Until then, feel free to call anytime." Since then, there have been a couple texts and myspace messages. That's right... we're friends with a rockstar. And that's the real story. Jealous??? You should be!!!!