MY WORLD:
It’s a mothafuckin’ Friday y’all!!! TIME TO GET WILD! Seriously, we made it through the week and if you’re not blowing it out in your own way tonight, then get to steppin’, cuz this is a blow-out only crew here at this blog (I really have no idea what I just wrote but it had some rhythm so I just went with it.) As Friday rolls in like the gramma who used to give you too much candy, I started thinking about what I was going to do tonight and I came to the realization that there are “fun things” that I try to convince myself that I still like to do…when I’ve actually…maybe…grown out of them. (JIMMY NO! DON’T ADMIT IT!!! THEY’RE WATCHING!!!!)
I don’t want to be the “I’m so old”-guy because, if you’re under the age of 40, and pulling that shit, you’re obnoxious and have ZERO self-awareness. Ever in a room with actual middle-aged people, and some trying-too-hard-to-sound-mature 27 year old talks about how “old” they feel now because they cooked dinner one time last week? Can these people be sent to the smelliest trash dump to live forever? (Had to get that out because the following may have echoes of this sentiment…) Since I don’t think these are as universal as some of my other lists, I would like to present the first installment of a new Friday staple…”Things I Try To Convince Myself That I Still Like.” Does age have something to do with this list? I’M NOT OLD OKAY! I’M NOT THAT GUY! Today’s subject…
Concerts: Earlier this week, I told The VP of Ops that we were “due to go to a concert.” It was a cool-husband thing to say on a Tuesday night that I didn’t really think would go any further than that. Like, I heard a live version of a song we liked on the radio and my mouth just farted that out. When we got home, I checked out upcoming Chicagoland concerts on the internet because I was bored and had already gone through Instagram like 94 times that day.
There were bands that we both like playing for cheap ticket prices and…I couldn’t pull the trigger. Why? Because they were on a weeknight or months away and all I could think about was how tired I would be during the week or how much I was going to have to spend on beer. (YOU DO NOT SOUND LIKE A FUN PERSON, JIMMY!) Am I the only one who thinks “yeah, but what if we buy tickets for this Friday night show that’s not for 3 months, and then our favorite couple decides to throw a house party that night and we can’t go cuz we’re too busy spending $14 on Corona Lights”?!?! Then! Our favorite couple is gonna be all “you know, we got to know Lonny and Bonny that Friday night you guys weren’t there, and we have reached the conclusion that their value system is more closely aligned to ours, so you and The VP have been replaced as the first couple to invite to double dates.” Next thing we know, we’re on a friendship app trying to find a good looking couple to double date with, hoping that if we take enough “look how much fun we’re having!”-pics our old fave-couple will get jealous and call us back. JUST CALL US BACK!
And if there’s a show on a weeknight? FUGGETABOWDIT! The VP came home a few months back, on a Monday, saying that she got us free tickets to LCD Soundsystem. I was supposed to be excited, I know. A cool hipstery band, that I could brag about seeing live to my cooler friends. But…it was Monday and lil’ JimJim was sleepy ti ti and just wanted to watch “Vanderpump Rules” and not rub arms with a sweaty stranger who LOVES dancing in crowded areas. (God I sound like a curmudgeon). We ended up going because we were both like “well, we can’t NOT go,” but neither of us were excited to be there. We sipped on INSANELY expensive beers, stood in the back and kinda swayed along to a few songs while silently praying that the other one would turn around and say “can we go?” That game of chicken lasted for about 8 songs. I broke, and The VP was so happy to nod her head and sprint out of the crowded sauna of a concert venue with me.
Now, obviously, there are still those bands for everyone that can overcome these lame-ass tendencies. Those bands for me include (off the top of me old head–said in a Irishy accent): Dave Matthews Band, Queens of the Stone Age, Death Cab for Cutie, Pearl Jam, Radiohead and….maybe Garth Brooks cuz that does sound like a real hoot. You’ll notice that there are no hip-hop crews (crews? acts? artists?) and that’s because the last weeknight concert I got TWISTED at was a Kanye West concert (That’s right, Kanye West. Ever heard of him? Someone texted me “ever heard of it?” yesterday and I remembered how AWESOME of a burn that is so I’ve been using it non-stop since.) Looking back, I believe this experience not only turned me off to hip hop shows, but it scarred me so bad about weeknight concerts that I’ve never been able to enjoy one since…
The VP and I were late in year 1 of our relash (cool shorthand for relationship) and I had bought us Kanye tix months prior. We both worked 9-5 office jobs, but were cool enough to not even hesitate about a Tuesday night rap concert (any other white people feel very self-conscious when saying the term “rap concert”? Just me?) We met for a beer after work like they do in the movies and talked about whether we were wearing cool enough clothes for Kanye. I was. She wasn’t. Classic us.
We got to our seats at the big arena just in time for the opening act, a cool girl singer person who I can’t remember now…wait…I’m thinking…nope, not getting it. Anyway, she was cool and has become a pretty big star since so, no bigs, we saw her before she blew up. The VP and I had perfected our beer trips to where we were like a relay race team that didn’t have to look at each other when handing off the baton. By the time Kanye took the stage, we were SAUCED and HAVING A TIME!
There were some bro-y in-a-perfect-amount guys next to us and they were our new friends. Mouthing words to each other; me not getting insecure that they might be hitting on The VP; having minor dance-offs in the row; you know, those type of concert friends. The sound quality wasn’t great, but it didn’t matter cuz that bass was THUMPIN’ and no one had pointed out that I didn’t know what to do with my hands. (I was basically waiting for all the lights to go down, except one spotlight on my hands and have the PA Announcer start yelling at me to “figure out if they’re staying in your pockets or not!”)
Later in the second half of the Kanye’s RAP CONCERT, our bro-y friends offered us a pill–like a aderrall thing. The VP actually takes 2 of those bad boys everyday cuz she’s NUTS without them, but I had never partaken. I politely declined because I was scared, but 7 minutes later The VP took one for herself–cuz of health reasons! and she offered me one again…(HYPOTHETICALLY!)…I took it this time because I was still in the “watch how cool I can be”-phase with The VP. Guys, it wakes you up like big-time! And guess what that means when you’re 27? YOU CAN KEEP DRINKING! Which I did…until like 6 in the morning.
The party continued from the concert to a nearby bar to VPs shitty apartment to “oh my god, the sun is coming up.” We fell asleep for about an hour before I woke up in a half-drunken panic (was probably more like three quarters-drunken panic). I didn’t have time to get back to my apartment and get to work on time, and I was still new enough at the job that I didn’t feel comfortable calling in sick. No time for a shower either, guys. It was near Christmas-time and, thankfully, The VPs mom had given my present to The VP a few weeks earlier. “It’s a shirt, open it.” Christmas time came early for this drunken mess, so I tore open the “present” and THANK GOD it was a business-ish button down. Threw it on and I was off. Suicide was a legitimate option on the crowded train ride downtown.
My plan was to slink into the office like a real slink, and hide at my desk with headphones in for 8 hours of HELL. I’d probably throw a cough or two in there to plant the “I bet he’s sick, so I should stay away”-seed in my co-workers brains. Unfortch, about 42 seconds after slinking into my chair like a real slink, my pod-mate came out of the clouds with a COMPLETELY UNEXPECTED QUESTION. “So how was the Kanye show?” Not remembering to stick to the plan, I spun around in my chair and, before I could answer, she panic-blurted “Oh my god are you okay?!?!?” Evidently, I did not look well.
The rest of that day was just as you’re imagining. Shakes, sweats, bosses who just don’t understand and a king-size lunch that couldn’t come close to making me feel better. The VP told me that she…well, actually The VP still works at this place and so…uh…she didn’t do any of the things I did the night before. She was all “Jimmy, maybe take it easy? We have work tomorrow and I value my job because my bosses care about me and I care about them!” Wow, what a dedicated worker! VP!
Long story short, that is what a weeknight concert means to me now; having a legitimately concerned co-worker ask if I’m okay the next morning. Either that, or I’m sleepy and lucky enough to stand next to the sweaty guy with hairy shoulders who decided a tank-top was a MUST-WEAR for this winter concert.
So, like, yeah I don’t really like concerts much now…but I’ll totally still go if you have an extra ticket.
OUR WORLD:
It’s Friday and it’s warm out in Chicago. Drink a margarita, wear your sunglasses and DO NOT talk about next week’s forecast.
LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
This is my fave Kanye song I think…
LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
This was me the morning after the Kanye show.
MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:
I’m not going to lie, I haven’t been gambling and I haven’t felt the urge because I’ve been BUSY LIVING LIFE GUYS! Jk, I’ve been busy doing shit I don’t really want to do and haven’t had time to do what I LOVE…which is gamble. I’ll get back into it this weekend. Also, The VP is out of town at the end of next week which means…a storm is comin’.
(My account currently at $256.83)
K bye.
Jimmy's Chair 