Friday, July 28, 2006

No Shirt...No Shoes...1 Fight...1 Robbery...1 Accident

Sara should have been there. There is no mistaking that. She should have been there. It was because of her that we were all there. Last night was the Kenny Chesney concert, and we were there because of Sara...she had suggested we go, she had bought the tickets, and she was the one who two days later found out she would be on a business trip (the business trip from hell, apparently) until the night of the concert (see the first paragraph here). So were at the Kenny concert without her, and a motley crew at that: Myself, my wife, Ernie, our cousin Jerry, his friend Steph, and Sara's friends Colleen and Denise.

The concert lineup was pretty good: Jake Owen, Dierks Bentley, and Kenny.







Shortly before everybody met at my house at 5 (approx. 4:45), Stacey woke up from her nap. I hadn't paid attention to the time, and her wild eyed look was rather frightening. She was somewhere between my wife and Smeagol for a few minutes. "Why didn't you wake me up? They'll be here soon."




She was right, I had lost track of time, and the dog still needed to eat and take a walk. I was busy walking the dog when apparently everyone showed up. Who knew? The dog wouldn't poop. Problem number one. Sydney ALWAYS poops after dinner. Into the crate went the dog, there were some comments about swamp ass from Steph, and out the door we ran. After flipping off Col in the parking lot, I led the way.

Somewhere on 91, we got stuck in traffic. That blew. We listened to the country station. It was at this point that a revelation occurred. Much like the revelation about his sister, Jerry also swore like a typical person away from the family. Not only was Tania (in her own words) not a "priss," but Jerry was a typical former football/hockey player. Steph's mouth...much worse.

In the middle of traffic, we decided to play a game among Ernie and I. Who could spot the most students was the challenge of the evening. Within a few minutes, I had three...stuck in traffic right next to us was a car full of them. That was when Steph told the story about watching Brokeback Mountain, and how unappealing two guys truly is. Shortly thereafter, Ernie got out of the car, walked back to Col's car, and came back. "Something smells like doritos," said Jerry, and sure enough, there was a nacho cheese scent emanating from Ernie. Don't try to fool a fat kid when snack chips are involved.




Meanwhile, we continued the long, slow trek off the highway to the Meadows. The jeep full of red necks was one of my favorites. They guy in the passenger seat was doing Jäger bombs, as the traffic searched for a place to park. That was when Ernie looked out the window and yelled, "Hey buddy, nice sock," at a guy with a blue, knee high sleeve on his leg. Recognizing the kid, I said, "That's Mike G., and that's a sleeve for the his leg, because he had 3rd degree burns last year." Well...nice sock, anyway, rack up 4 more students for me.

Finding parking (for a whopping $25, sorry Col), we looked around. Stace turned to the youngins of our group and said, "Welcome to college, spring weekend...only with cars." It was a pretty accurate representation. The grass was filled with girls falling all over themselves, and out of their shirts. Guys tossed a football around in one area, aFrisbeee in another. Keg stands were being done in the back of a pickup, not more than 30 yards away from us. Scarfing down our sandwiches, and some beers, we watched a girl (you know that girl), being forced into a chair by her friends, and water forced into her. It was really just a ridiculous scene.

We made it into the music center, but not without incident. I spotted a few of my incoming freshmen, and was accosted by a few outgoing seniors. While waiting in line to go to the bathroom, a girl looked at me, saying "You look familiar." To which her friend replied, "Yeah, he's a teacher at the F-ing high school." The first could only say, "You're not supposed to be here! HAHAHAHA" Drunkens! At the urinal, some guy made sure Jerry was having a good time as he (the guy) started cheering, turned to Jerry and screamed, "As long as everyone's enjoying themselves!" A very Brokeback moment, indeed!

Upon leaving the bathroom, I was asked directions from a group of drunk girls, no more than 20 years old. When one asked if she could lean on me for a little while, I frantically looked for my wife. Who would have figured, a young, tall blonde, hanging on me, and I got freaked out. Of course, Stacey couldn't help but comment, and really had a good time busting my balls about it the rest of the night.

By the time we had gotten to the lawn, I had another dozen or so students chalked up. When we were picking out our spot, the game was over...I had seen a group of 50+ kids I recognized, even knocking the hat off of one of the girls I had in class this year, who was also on the track team.

The concert began (finally). At this point, we were introduced to Monica (though we would only find out her name later). Monica and her friends were just to the right of us, and not nearly as annoying as the drunk high schoolers to our left (I'm surprised Ernie didn't fight them, for the number of times he was bumped into, stepped on, etc.). Monica, however, was that girl who was dancing by herself WAY too early in the night. She also kept inching ever closer to Stacey, making Stacey increasingly more uncomfortable, much to our amusement.

Midway through Dierks Bentley, Jerry and Steph went to go get t-shirts. It was at this point that we became well acquainted with Monica's friends. One of the boys with her wanted some water. He began scouring the ground for waterbottles. That was when he came upon Jerry's, sitting by my feet.

Ernie (Yelling): No!

Him: Yeah!

All of us (Yelling): NO!

Him (Audibly whispering, and holding his fingers about an inch apart): Just a little...

Us (Yelling): NO!


He popped the top, giggled, looked around mischievouslyy, and squirted some in his mouth. At this point, something within me snapped. Major issues do not set me off. It's only the little things. Within the instance the water hit his lips, I was on my feet, and had snatched the water back from him. I wanted to kill him, and frankly, I don't know why. Regardless, the kid had pissed me off, so I shot water into his face. Around this time, I realized what a completely bad move I was making. His friend was stepping in from my right, and I tensed, awaiting the inevitable. I was sure I would have to fight him or the other guy. Much to my surprise, there was no fight. The drunken friend was pulled back, sat down, and told to sit there and shut up. I got a few stare down moments back from him, but nothing major. Crisis averted.

The rest of the concert was uneventful. Stacey and I were disappointed because Kenny gave almost identical to the last time we had seen him (only 2 new songs), but Dierks Bentley was really good, so it had that going for it. Still, there was no Jake sighting with Dierks! Sometime after the "fight" and between sets, we called Sara. She should've been into NY from Chicago by then. Of course, she was still in Chicago...stranded. No planes were leaving O'Hare for the east coast, and her's was cancelled. That's an ordeal for her to explain, and I'm sure she will soon enough.

On the way out of the concert, I found a chair, which I promptly stole. It had a Dodge logo seat cover on it, and Col promptly pointed out that it was Music Center property. I removed this seat cover, and declared it my own...much to her amusement. At the same time, I had lost everyone else, and Col had to buy a shirt and find a friend, so I made the trek back to the car on my own. Once at the car, Stacey couldn't believe I had stolen a chair, but it was typical of me, I'd say. Down deep, I'm a compulsive white liar, teller of tall tales, exaggerator, and closet clepto.

We drove to Dunkins, and got some coffees/coolatas. Col called, and wondered if she had to drive Ernie home, as she had picked him up at his house before coming to mine. This made sense, and we told her we'd wait for her. When she arrived, it was all for nothing, as Ernie realized his keys were at my house. We wasted 10 minutes for nothing. I told her to go home, and I'd drive Ernie home, as it was late enough already. With that, we pulled out of the lot, and headed for the highway.

That was when it happened. Yielding to the oncoming traffic, we had to wait a while before we could get on 91. When finally, the car in front of me moved, I popped the clutch, released the brake, and in the split second it took me touch the gas Colleen had rear-ended me., prompting this exchange...

Me: Did Col just hit me?!

Ernie: Yup

Jerry: Oh, I thought Chris just stalled.

Apparently, a similar conversation went on in her car. "Did you just hit Chris? Is he going to stop." "No, he'll call in a few minutes." Ironic, as I quickly called the maniac up using speaker phone.

Col: "Hello?"

Me: "You just hit me."

Col: "Yeah. I didn't mean to."

Everyone in my car erupted in laughter.

By the time I got home and inspected the damage, it was all over. Our uncle had called Jerry, to prompt him to tell his dad that Chris had only been in one fight and one accident all night. He forgot my robbery, though I'm sure my uncle still would have commented that I was having a slow night. What Jerry failed to tell his dad was what a totally Brokeback night he had. There was the guy at the urinal, a friend who tried to slap him five with his free hand as he peed on the fence, another guy who placed his hand on Jerry's knee, and yet another guy who almost sat on Jerry's lap. This was all almost as hillarious as all the ankle/knee injuries Steph kept getting as people stepped all over us throughout the concert.

At home, I saw that there was no real damage to my car; only a scratch about a centimeter long was on my bumper. It was no big deal, and I called Col to let her know. We laughed, and she apologized profusely, again...prompting more laughter.

It's 3:30ish now, and Sara should be arriving home, finally. I'm out the door to weightlifting. So, Sara, wherever you are...sorry about your travel delays. You missed one hell of a night...

As for Colleen, I guess she finally got me back for chasing her around our house with my football helmet on during New Year's Eve 2001.

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