I Can’t Handle Concerts

19 Oct

Went to see Alanis Morissette Wednesday night at House of Blues for a girls night out. Even my dad made fun of me for this, “Oh, Jesus. Have fun singing ‘I’m a bitch I’m a mothah!…'”. To which I responded that he was thinking of Meredith Brooks. Same difference…I guess. But anyways, I went to see the concert and from what I remember it was good. I’m just not good at going to concerts. I always end up demanding to meet the singers/bands I’m seeing, and when I don’t get to, I get angry. This sounds unrealistic, but I got cocky the time I met all three Hanson brothers at South Shore Music Circus two summers ago. Not exactly sure why meeting Hanson made me feel entitled to meet famous people, seeing as there were only about 50 people at Hanson, and the venue is the size of my living room. But I must admit that it was kind of trippy to meet the band I was smitten with circa 1997. The last time I had been to a Hanson concert, I was in 5th grade and someone was screaming and blocking my view with an “I like Ike!” poster.

Anyways, something my friends and I like to do before every single event we attend in town (well, any event ANYWHERE), is pregame. We were all coming from work on the way to the concert, and had little time to sit around pre-gaming, so we decided to put vodka into our cranberry juice bottles and drink while commuting. Let me let you in on a little secret: you know you’ve “made it” when you are drinking vodka from juice bottles on the Red Line on a Wednesday at 6pm. If you know me, which I assume you don’t, you would know that I can’t drink hard alcohol. Unfortunate for my calorie intake. But hard stuff makes me irrational, and do things like cry when the jukebox plays anything by John Lennon, or Teenage Dream.

Once at House of Blues, we are told that one of my friends accidentally got the wrong ticket, which was probably my fault as I thought originally there were only two floors. I guess I idiotically didn’t realize that upper Mezzanine was not the same as 2nd floor Mezzanine. There were three of us at the concert, so when we found out our friend was on 3rd floor, while we were on 2, we started bribing the door guy. He was a whack ass bitch who denies bribes because he “wants to not get fired” (pppsshffffft!), so we then started scalping for shittier tickets. People were sketched out. We ended up giving some random couple an upgrade on tickets and also giving them twenty bucks. Terrible. But third floor actually ended up having a good view, and we weren’t separated. For that I say, danke schoen to the random interracial couple who barely spoke English and let us take advantage of that. Don’t hate, they got better tickets and twenty bucks! We got upstairs, made besties with the girls standing next to us, and tried to fist fight a girl in a Canadian tuxedo for blocking our view.

During one of the last songs of the concert I decided that I was going to meet Alanis. No, I was really going to. We made our way to some sketchy elevator, took it down to the first floor, and cut through the crowd. It’s really easy to blatantly get better tickets at HOB without actually having them, I guess. We got to the side of the stage, and Alanis threw her set list out into the audience. My friend caught it, and a fat guy in yet ANOTHER Canadian tuxedo tried to fist fight her for it. People who are still really into the 90’s LOVE  denim. But he lost, and had to give up the list. We then started bribing another doorman who looked oddly like Palumbo (security guard at North Quincy High). At this point I only had $17 cash on me, which was actually $18 but I was too out of it to count. He denied our bribe, obviously, but pointed to the direction of the alley where Alanis was going to come out. We waited anxiously next to the Canadian tuxedo guy, who I guess had followed us out and was at this point trying to bribe us for the set list. I was desperate to meet Alanis, as I had gotten this far. Her Biggie Smalls looking security guard was manning the giant SUV that she was supposed to hop into, while my friend, who had come to pick us, was pretending to be a HOB trash man to get closer to Alanis. I told the security guard I wrote a column for the city of Boston and was there to interview Alanis. He said no. I drunkenly rambled that I wrote a blog and demanded an interview. He said he doesn’t know what that even means and continued to ignore me. I started calling a House of Blues employee a liar for reasons I don’t understand, dropped my Iphone, cracked it, blamed the Canadian tuxedo man, and gave up the fight because I was getting drunk munchies. I don’t really remember much else, other than eating pizza and listening to underground rap on the ride home. Maybe none of this even happened.

I’m not good at concerts…


3 Responses to “I Can’t Handle Concerts”

  1. Meredith October 19, 2012 at 9:48 pm #

    This is the funniest concert review I’ve read in a long time. LOVE IT! And I went to NQHS as well, but I graduated in ’99 so I had a different security guard.

  2. Peter Clarke October 25, 2012 at 7:36 pm #

    HOB is the best place in Boston to see a show. And the third floor is better than the second. But Alanis, wasn’t she the one who was a bad bad girl and careless with a delicate man?

    • Molly October 25, 2012 at 7:48 pm #

      No that was Fiona Apple. And I agree, 3rd floor was better than second floor.

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