Last night my boyfriend played a show at a bar that was too big for its own good - like, you would need to have an agent and a tour bus and a record contract to have enough attention to fill that place up. But there was a good amount of people there, and most of them were batshit crazy. That was my impression, anyway.
Aside from the people we know, who are all pretty much off their rockers, there was a frat boy with dreds who yelled out "Freebird!" while Mike was rocking out. Awesome. Also there were a bunch of middle-aged men who straight up videotaped a set by this girl group from L.A. Those girls have a lot of angst, and I understand, because I would too if a dude in a hockey jersey was all up in my shit with a camcorder.
There was also a guy in a blazer and jeans and date rape shoes who was dancing around like a nutbar. My friend and I had a bet as to whether the blazer was velvet or corduroy - my friend was brave and got close enough to Nutbar to report back that it was velvet. I won the bet, but in the end, I think we all lost.
Also my friend showed up wasted with the guy she is now dating, and they made out a lot, but that was ok. I was supposed to tape the show with Mike's digital audio recorder, and somehow I messed up, and that was not ok. But you know what? Oh well! Because in this rock and roll lifestyle, you just gotta roll with the punches, baby.