someone please tell when did college girls start dancing as if having an epileptic fit? and when did college boys let themselves go and become sweaty, drippy, horny idjits? oh, wait.
and so went our night at the silversun pickups concert at the commodore yesterday.
don't get me wrong, sean and i enjoyed silversun pickups performance. the sound was bass-thumping, guitar solos galore and fazy billy corgan-like singing.
but the crowd was just so tempting to want to shove across the room due to their drunken jumping about, flailing their arms and elbows around and generally being oblivious to others around them.
how do i maintain my cool girlfriend composure by putting on lockdown the aggro grrrlfriend dying to get out, in front of le boyfriend?
thank goodness for small things. what irks me also irks sean. we saw eye to eye on the lunacy of the night.
we were lucky enough to stand beside the girl with the huge honkin' canvas tote (there is such a thing as coatcheck. look into it) dancing away and expanding her already big frame for more dance space. holding up her elbow and iphone to record silversun songs that probably none of her friends will want to watch as she tries to convince them that watching it is just like being there.
so we moved over to stage left instead.
all was fine until a frizzy haired short girl right in front of me broke out into a spastic frenzy of a dance. like she was trying her damndest to conjure up a rainstorm. nay, a flood. had i a drink in my hand, her unkempt hair would've been all up in my business. when she did dance to close for my comfort, i gave her a push with my water bottle to make her go into her quadrant. when what i really wanted to do was give her a bop on the head with it.
as the finale of panic switch was played, a paris hilton wannabe wearing a string of faux pearl necklaces and her boyfriend bumrushed their way in. because that's what drunktards do at the last few minutes of a show. followed by another blonde and her shapeless, doughy and sweaty boyfriend who was basically bum-frickin' grinding her from behind. and don't think i didn't see you, blonde girl who after the concert took way too long, reaching down the front of her tanktop to adjust "the girls."
t'is what happens when you're not part of the drinking or 420 crowd. you become an eyewitness to the drunken fugliness in all its glory. just try to suppress your urge to cringe.
i remember when i was that age, crazy and going all out. but somehow me and my friends were always cute in our lowered inhibitions. NEVER annoying.
what went wrong?
oh and those pushing 40 year old guys wearing graffitti'ed ed-hardy-like t-shirts? you really should know better.