The traditional gift for a first anniversary is paper. So I got my wife Janet Jackson tickets about a year ago. The concert got postponed in January, then rescheduled to July – when we had our non-refundable vacation planned. I asked for my money back, but was told they couldn’t until Janet actually cancelled, not postponed. Then they postponed again. Turns out Janet got preggers at 62 or however old she is, so basically, Janet Jackson stole my money. That’s the way love goes, eh Janet?
So as a backup, I decided to get my wife Dixie Chicks tickets instead. The concert was pretty good, they are very talented and I knew more songs than I thought. Surprisingly, I wasn’t too annoyed being around that many people, but there were a few. I was standing in a beer line about 14 deep. They had three types of beers. Three. The line was slow and the guy in front of me finally got up – “Do you guys have Miller Lite?” No, we have these three beers. “Oh. Let me think about it.” We were in line for 12 minutes, stupid. You couldn’t process that decision earlier?
Then there was drunk lady in front of me. She was between airplane runway and jackhammer noise level most of the night. How do you know she was drunk, Chris? Because she was dancing before the music even came on. She must have seen something shiny, because she left and didn’t come back.
I did notice it was rather female heavy in the crowd. Mostly semi-fake country girls about my age or older. Here’s some perspective.
Actually, maybe the reason it was empty was that some guy with explosive diarrhea covered the back and top of the toilet like he was making modern art. I about gagged, but of course found time to snap a pic and text my wife, because I’m romantic and it was too funny not to share. I hope he sat on the end of the aisle or brought an extra set of Wranglers or he was in for a longer night than whomever had to drive that drunk lady home.