It was with a foolish optimism that I put on a dress and did my Makeup this morning, because hey! You never know! Maybe that guy who denied me the tickets yesterday would wake up feeling remorseful and email me last minute!
Taping for Fallon came and went. Time ticked by in the Gawker office. I checked Twitter. Tumblr. My RSS Reader. Texts From Last Night, even. Click. Click.
I think I read every single page on the internet at least twice.
Bored with life, I clicked one more thing in my Reader before mentally checking out and heart. Stopped.
This is what I saw:
You know what? God bless you, Street Carnage. Seriously. You make a lot of crass dick jokes and often post NSFW pictures without warning me, but hot damn. You finish like a champion. That's what she said.
So, off I popped down the street to the Apple store. I got there, found a wristband, and scurried into line.
I was only about 15 people deep and knew I'd have a good view of the teeny little stage when I got upstairs. Settled in for the wait, I noticed several things.
1. Spanish speaking people text "jajajajaja" to each other a lot. Why? Doesn't "si" mean yes? Are they secret German speakers?
2. Teenagers from New Jersey are, in general, probably very nice. However. I always manage to be somewhere near a group of them at concerts, and underage drunk bridge and tunnelers always make me see red.
3. Hearing your favorite band suddenly play a soundcheck directly over your head is another way to simulate a heart attack.
When I got upstairs, all the seats were filled. Most of the people looked like employees or music biz people and the line started filing directly behind the seats. I somehow nabbed a primo end-of-row, next-to-aisle spot. That way, in case the seated people stood up during the show, I could very quickly dart into the aisle and still see the stage.
I went to college! I know things!
(Not like those fucking teenagers.)
We found out the concert was being recorded and/or taped? for the iTunes online store. Cool. Band comes out.
Lots of smiling and bopping around from this one over here... they played some new album stuff but also did "Consolation Prizes" and "Long Distance Call". As usual, they're terrific live (holy singing voice, Thomas!) and seemed very happy and appreciative.
Half an hour later, they paused before the last song. The Jersey teenagers, who had (of course) found a dead center standing position, finally came through with the douche. Thomas said something about seeing us tomorrow or Saturday at their concerts in Central Park, and a teenager yelled, "We're going!"
Awkward silence. Heads turn slooowly, iTunes execs look pissed off, band strains to hear.
Thomas, being the incredibly nice guy that he is, stops getting ready to sing and asks, "What?"
Teenager: "We're going!"
Teenager: "See you there!"
Thomas: [ambivalent, turning away] "...Ok."
And, just like that, a stupid teenager got Cut by a Parisian.
Let me tell you-- it's a life-jarring experience, the first time.
Tomorrow I'm seeing them play in Central Park! Thank my optimism again for buying a ticket months ago, before I knew I'd still be living in this timezone. Here's hoping there are no cardiac events in my near future.