Blogging Like I've Never Blogged Before

Thursday, September 25, 2003

So I went to the Dave Matthews concert in Central Park last night. Please don't tell anyone in Williamsburg about this, my hipster home, because I think going to a Dave Matthews show is grounds for expulsion.

It's gotten to the point where I feel like I am the oldest person at a concert. There were so many kids there. I look at some of these girls and I'm like, "Wow, if I was at this concert five years ago, I'd try to talk to you."

I've seen him quite a few times and every time I go I say to myself, "This is the last Dave Matthews show I am ever going to." Well, there I was again last night, thanks to a free ticket. They were all free tickets at one point, but lots of people were suckered in to buying them on eBay or from scalpers. I just can't stand at concerts anymore. I am sick of standing. I just want to sit. I like sitting. Sitting is fucking awesome.

I waited in line for two hours to get into this place. At least two hours. Standing. It took two hours to go from 63rd St. to 72nd. It sucked ass. Then once we got in, we heard everyone saying that they just cut in line at the front or entered at 81st street, where there was no line. Bastards.

One guy who was walking by the line said this to his friend: Yo, grabbing that second beer was a fucking great idea, bro.

Indeed it was. What a genius! I heard the word "bro" approximately 4,258,164,058,705 times.

While we were waiting in line, there was this one girl who said, "I can't believe I haven't seen anyone I know yet. I thought I'd run into a lot of people." Yes, that is surprising. In such a small crowd of 75,000 people, you'd expect to run into dozens of people you know. I'd expect at least six people.

About ten minutes after I made fun of this girl, I happened to run into my friend Gina.

So we hung out with Gina and her pals for the show. While we were waiting for it to start, there was a fella behind us who decided that walking to the bathroom was just not an option. He whipped out his wang and started taking a piss right there. Now before you go and judge this guy, it should be noted that he was courteous enough to cover himself with an umbrella. Although it was one of those little drink umbrellas that you find in margaritas. Luckily he left our area and wandered around to find more territory to mark.

What a dirtbag. Of course, he was drunk. And he was wearing a "Blackout 2003" shirt, so if anyone was going to piss in front of everyone, the smart money was on this pony. As soon as I saw his shirt, I was like, "Oh, there's the guy who will take out his dick and start pissing in front of everyone." I wonder if before he went out, he was looking at his t-shirt collection, and said, "Now, should I go with the blackout shirt or my "Heroes of Ground Zero" shirt? Well, since it's a happy event, I'll wear the blackout shirt. People will enjoy that. So maybe I should wear my New York Fuckin' City shirt. Everyone always gets a kick out of that. But then people will think that maybe I've got too much of an attitude, and Dave Matthews tends to draw somewhat of a hippie crowd, so I guess I won't wear that one. Oh wait, maybe I should wear my Devils jersey. No no. Definitely the blackout shirt. What an awesome night this will be! This Blackout shirt has already paid for itself!"

I like the hats and shirts that people sell on the street with all of the curse words. Like the shirt that says, "Fuck you you fuckin' fuck." Brilliant! The hats that just say "Fuck" are funny. Who is in the market for hats like these? "Hmmm, I like the 'Fuck' hat but I'm looking for something a little less mainstream. Can you show me something in a 'cocksucker'?"

There was this one guy who was holding up a sign. I have no idea what the sign said, but since we were about 11,000 rows deep, chances were that no one was going to see it. Take that shit back to the WrestleMania from whence you came.

So now I mean it. That was the last Dave Matthews show I will ever go to.

This is a picture of Gina. She likes to dance with videographers at weddings.

All material © Mike Toole; 2003 - 2006