Is it considered immoral to cremate a fireman?
SUNDAY
I was expecting a lot more out of Sunday; last year's 64-Nipples concert gave me false expectations, and Saturday was so great I expected it would just follow course. Uh-uh.
After breakfast and a pitiful attempt to get a little more sleep, I got up and was ready to leave the hotel by eleven o'clock. Karen, Andy, and Micah were at church, and the plan was for all of us to get the fuck out by one. Watched a little TV with Aaron; everyone got back about the time Aaron and I found the CD Player preview. It was real nice of them to give us a free 3-minute preview of the jukebox feature. It was slightly less nice of them not to warn us it had stopped, so we just sort of kept on checking out snippets of songs and have possibly been charged for them. Well, shit happens.
Lunch at Panera Bread. While I was in the bathroom, Andy tried to get a table, but it was busy and most of the five-or-more-persons tables were taken. One, however, had only a middle-aged couple, so he talked them into getting up and letting us have it. Originally, they'd wanted the table to themselves "so they could be alone." Personally, I think it makes a little more sense to have a two-person table to yourself as opposed to a table where just anybody could sit down, but what the fuck do I know?
Karen, Andy, and Micah hit Border's and then church. I definitely should have gone with them instead of Midtown--not out of religious tendencies, but it just would have been better than what happened to me.
Saw Karl Densen's TIny Universe, a neat little jazz band. Caught the last minute or so of Angie Wolff, an un-Jesus-y hottie that was singing about wanting some guy to fuck her. Chilled out at the Graham Colton stage for a bit, but watched Galactic instead. Galactic is a very shibby band--sort of rock, sort of jazz, sort of funk, sort of a hot lead singer. It was during this concert that I made a big fucking mistake.
Standing to my left was a small group of older couples smoking pot. I walked up and asked one for a hit. He was real nice and would definitely have given me some, except that I pussed out. Aaron was not amused when he found out about this, but was glad that I'd said no. I, however, got a craving for pot that almost surpassed my sex drive, for the first time in my entire life. I was looking around for it like lions look for crippled zebras. Not fun.
So Galactic ended and Ween came onstage. I warn all of you now: If you have never heard any of Ween's music, do yourself a favor and never do so. I have listened to it for all of us, and have been rightly punished. I got mad about three minutes in and told Aaron that I'd have to get high in order to deal with this shitty concert. I failed to mention that I was still trying to get pot, though. I don't think he noticed, though.
Nor did he notice when two teens lit up a joint right in front of me and I asked for a hit. I balled up my fist around it and inhaled a fair good bit of smoke, which I promptly proceeded to gag up for the next hour. I'm still coughing over it, though some of that's sinus infection. And yet, I don't think Aaron noticed at all. He never told K&A, though, so that's all I care about.
I'll say this about pot: We've all joked about getting high at that concert, but seriously, I'd probably never actually inhaled the smoke before. I'd have noticed nearly choking to death. Never again.
I wanted to see Fuel so badly, but everyone else wanted to see REO Speedwagon and Journey, so we met K&A&M at a gate, Aaron and I caught some pizza, and we headed back to the Ford 96 stage. REO Speedwagon was pretty cool, but at this point, I was sick from the smoke, it was cold, I'd been on my feet way too much this weekend--I just wanted to go home. In a nutshell, I was only minimally listening. But like I said, they're awesome, I just couldn't give them my full attention.
Journey came on next, and we got stuck behind a lot of teenage stoners, one of whom tried to pick a fight with Andy. Andy was ready to tear the guy to death. The band was great, though, even if I was ready to go. Karen, at one point, got really sick, so we left five minutes early. Before we did, though, there was fun in the sense of three or five really hot girls passing by us and getting the hell rubbed out of their asses. Also, two more crowdsurfing females--everybody grabbed a piece except for Karen. I basically tried to finger them through their shorts, and would have most definitely succeeded with the second one had she not fallen and taken my arm with her. I thought she broke the damn thing.
Dinner at Subway, preceded by a tearful and curse-filled drive back and forth the same road trying to find a place with an open dining room. Karen was really sick at this point, so she stayed in the car while we grabbed some food and I spent five of my last six dollars. Came home.
I survived.