Why do I worry about that stuff? I don't know. I just do. The husband calmly and coolly drove us through the Loop and parked in a free, large, public lot behind the Pageant with no problems whatsoever. The only thing concerning was...
I may have gently petted Laura the Aura as I shut her passenger side door, saying my goodbyes. Since I was sure she'd either be violated or disappear altogether by the time we returned. The photo does not give the parking lot the creepy, crime-y vibe it had down so well.
Just another reminder about how lucky I am that the husband looks at this every day and hasn't run off yet.
I watched a lot of hippie dippie, arty farty people walking around. I felt older and out of place. But that's okay. I was with the hubby and I like him enough to deal with the crowd (I may sound harsh there, but he was the one who referred to them as a sea of douches, so see? I was being nice!).
Even though he did leave me in the middle of the less-than-comforting parking lot to go back to the car to put his jacket back.
I assured him when he returned that I had not been robbed or beaten or anything. Lucked out there, Buddy! I would have been so mad at him!
We walked past sketchy looking scalpers (so weird) and were at the venue in a couple minutes. We passed the big black bus that we assumed was Daniel Tosh's ride. The hubby told me to take a picture but there were a lot of employees there and it seemed weird. So I did not. I did take a pic of the Pageant. When you see the pic of the place and stage later, maybe you'll understand why picturing a Disturbed show in that venue kind of blew my mind all over the place.
The second we walked through the doors, a woman had us step out of line and thoroughly padded us down.
She squeezed my butt checks. With a lot of... vigor.
I may have inadvertently dated a girl in college, but that was only because I didn't know it and thought we were friends. A personal visit at my apartment with a bouquet of flowers after I had my wisdom teeth out alerted me to a relationship I did not know I was in. My mother, having driven 4 hours to take care of me for a week, got to be enlightened at the same time as me. Yay. Oh, college. How I don't miss you.
Anyway, I had nothing in my pockets but I guess best be on the safe side. It was still very strange. I've never been overly (or underly, or exactly moderately, whatever that would mean, for the record) padded down before. I wondered if this person was that involved with foreplay in her own life, because wow. Took a lot of time, energy, and effort there, Lady. Then, she did the same thing to my husband, or so he told me, since at that point I was onto dealing with a ticket lady who was less handsy.
My husband said he had never been padded down like that either. Which I found surprising. Hooray for cultural tolerance at airports and other establishments other than the Pageant... Which I think was also tolerant because everyone WAS being treated the same. So it's fine. Just strange.
We got the letter G stamped on our hands because we were over 21. Later that night, at home, I told the hubby he better start mentally telling himself how sexy it is, since mine is going to be on there for the next 2 years. I wondered why G. Because "God damn, we're over 21!" Because it's "great" to be of age? Then I started singing Semisonic's DND in my head because it sound like G and G, and my brain kind of stopped working. Here's my hand now, after many a good scrubbing.
Ooo! Ooo! *Squirms and bounces in seat. I know, I know!
It must stand for "giggles" because it was a comedy show!
The husband's answer was a lot more logical. He said they must pick a letter randomly at night so that no one knows and therefore can't fake it. Ooooh. That makes sense.
Although, I have to say, thank you, Guy-Who-Demanded-To-See-My-ID-All-Seriously and then inspected it too long with a flashlight up close, all CSI and sh*t. Thank you for acting like I may be 10 years younger than I am. It's like the anti-ma'am. Awwwww. Kisses. I kept them inside, but wanted to do the one cheek, then other cheek, European/Tim Gunn style gesture. Which I don't think the bouncer-hard rock-type guy checking the IDs would have appreciated in the manner it was meant.
The Pageant was pretty interesting. A lot smaller and more intimate than I had anticipated. Lots of chairs were set up and we had help finding our seats. 4 or 5 high school boys were seated directly behind us and gave me violent fantasies...
As in, fantasies of me violently killing them. They did not take a breath the entire 45 minutes before the show started. And although I guess they were "friends", all they did was bash each other and talk and talk and talk and it was infuriating. I know they were high schoolers (spell check just tried to make that SCHOLARS! Whoa, spell check, you are MISTAKEN) from all their talk about high school, homecoming, teachers, Facebook, girls, boasts, brags, put downs, REALLY ANNOYING HIGH PITCHED FAKE LAUGHING, and just really awesome zingers. Yes, that was sarcasm. I almost had the husband get me something alcoholic. But then I was afraid I might actually punch a group of 11th graders and I don't see how the judge is going to understand how necessary it was. And the hubby would have had to come to my rescue and we would not have gotten to see Daniel Tosh.
The only redeeming audience quality was the couple next to us. The guy chit chatted with me while his wife was away for a couple minutes. He was super bald by choice as evidenced by the bandaid on the back of his head and he was a big, muscle-y guy who could have easily been an intimidating Mr. Clean. Once he turned to me and spoke, his eyes got all crinkly LIKE SANTA. He was so nice and genuinely seemed to be just a friendly, kind, happy-go-lucky guy. That helped settle me down. He said his wife had gotten these tickets for their anniversary and he was really happy about it. They looked really happy together. Awww. He asked if we were big fans of Daniel Tosh and I answered, "A little bit" because I don't get out much and I'm stupid. Why didn't I say, "Yes! We love him!" or something equally true? I don't know. My social interaction practice happens... Now. Lucky guy.
There were 2 opening comics, both pretty good, both doing short sets. Daniel Tosh came out looking basically like he does on his Comedy Central show. Deep V! But over a tee. He admitted right away to being under the weather but he got right into his act and was hilarious. He did over an hour of material and it was great.
The stage! Nice! Not a bad view in the place, I think.
After the show, the crowd poured out and it was impossible to get in front, or in the middle. We filtered out at the end and walked quickly to the parking lot. Where our car still waited for us, unmolested! We got to enjoy sitting in that lot for about 20 minutes, as my earlier stress transferred to my husband as he lost his patience with what can only be described as the worst drivers in Missouri or possibly America attempted to all leave the parking lot at once. There was A LOT of honking. Once we made it onto the street, we were good. Home we went, exhausted, remembering too well why so many of our dates happen before 10 at night.
And like the elderly couple that we are, we fell into bed quickly and with lots of sighs and cracking joints, and we talked about how nice our bed feels. Then the sound of his snoring floated softly into the air and my insomnia took a much deserved break. I love blankets, pillows, warm kitties, the feel of my dog sleeping against my legs, and the sound of my husband's snoring. Last night, there was nothing in the entire world that I ever have loved or could ever love more.
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