(no subject)
Went to the Dethklok show at Hammerstein ballroom in the city, the day before Halloween. With Tom. Because driving in the city is a giant pain, I opted to take the train instead. Secaucus smelled like tennis balls. ...Tennis balls.
I had forgotten how... unique the city truly is. Homeless people and weirdos. Luckily Hammerstein was only a half a block from Penn station, where the train leaves off. Unluckily, I did not know which direction that half a block was; the blocks are so far apart, I couldn't see which way the street numbers counted. So we ended up walking four blocks to find it. Strange vehicles, strange people everywhere. While we were on line to get inside, the party bus came and went. Just like that.
During the show, there was a guy in a green leotard. Head to toe. A young man -- no perverted, old guy -- yet he felt the need to wear nothing but that. His entire erogenous zone was.. ...defined, yet he stood very casually. Like it was an everyday thing. He had it even pulled up over his head, but eventually took it down. He didn't look like the sort of crazy you would be to do that.
I wore a cheap jacket to protect myself from the... charms of a more rambunxious show. Tom wore the custom hoodie I got him for his birthday, after ruining a jacket of his. People DID start throwing beer and such, but none of it landed on either of us. If his shit got ruined, I was going to be annoyed.
Tom panicked, and decided to leave before Dethklok even came on, so that we would be back home in time for the midnight premiere of The Boondock Saints 2. The movie was okay, but only great if you were a terrific fan of the first. Which a lot of Irish people are. Not me, so much. I was a little bitter about missing the guys I came to see. I youtube'd some other live shows they did. It would've been nice.
I had the train schedule written down, and he made the choice 15 minutes before it left. We had to hurry back to the train, as there wouldn't be another for three hours, and there was no re-entry to the show. Hanging out in Penn station for three hours is not my idea of a good time.
We made it back -- the transfer in Secaucus still smelled like tennis balls, only now there were costumed hooligans also boarding the train -- and saw the movie in Paramus. ...We should've stayed.
I had forgotten how... unique the city truly is. Homeless people and weirdos. Luckily Hammerstein was only a half a block from Penn station, where the train leaves off. Unluckily, I did not know which direction that half a block was; the blocks are so far apart, I couldn't see which way the street numbers counted. So we ended up walking four blocks to find it. Strange vehicles, strange people everywhere. While we were on line to get inside, the party bus came and went. Just like that.
During the show, there was a guy in a green leotard. Head to toe. A young man -- no perverted, old guy -- yet he felt the need to wear nothing but that. His entire erogenous zone was.. ...defined, yet he stood very casually. Like it was an everyday thing. He had it even pulled up over his head, but eventually took it down. He didn't look like the sort of crazy you would be to do that.
I wore a cheap jacket to protect myself from the... charms of a more rambunxious show. Tom wore the custom hoodie I got him for his birthday, after ruining a jacket of his. People DID start throwing beer and such, but none of it landed on either of us. If his shit got ruined, I was going to be annoyed.
Tom panicked, and decided to leave before Dethklok even came on, so that we would be back home in time for the midnight premiere of The Boondock Saints 2. The movie was okay, but only great if you were a terrific fan of the first. Which a lot of Irish people are. Not me, so much. I was a little bitter about missing the guys I came to see. I youtube'd some other live shows they did. It would've been nice.
I had the train schedule written down, and he made the choice 15 minutes before it left. We had to hurry back to the train, as there wouldn't be another for three hours, and there was no re-entry to the show. Hanging out in Penn station for three hours is not my idea of a good time.
We made it back -- the transfer in Secaucus still smelled like tennis balls, only now there were costumed hooligans also boarding the train -- and saw the movie in Paramus. ...We should've stayed.