This is the story of an incident that happened to Sway and I earlier this year.
I was perusing my old writing folder and found it.
For lack of anything better to say, I hope you get a giggle.
(does this sort of shit happen to anybody else, or is it just us??)
The Concert We Almost Didnt Make
Its 6.30 in the evening and Im lying on the couch during a break in a DVD marathon Im enjoying with my girl. Shes sitting on the kitchen bench nearby. Were each involved in our own thoughts, occasionally throwing a random comment back and forth as they come to mind.
My mind drifts to the upcoming Veruca Salt gig we have tickets to. I'm really looking forward to that one. But something important gnaws at the back of mind. I know Im forgetting something.
Dont you hate that feeling?
Anyway I decide to tackle the problem logically.
First things first:
When is the concert?
Early February sometime. Easy.
OK, what else is in February?
Our trip to New Zealand is the first thing to leaps to mind. Thats in early February, too.
Alright! Now were getting somewhere.
Im running all this through my mind and I start, slowly mind you, to see a possible impasse here.
Hon? I say; a forced levity in my voice. What date is that Veruca Salt gig?
She looks up from what shes doing and a slight frown creases her adorable brow as she thinks about it.
Ummm. I dunno. She replies.
She throws herself off the bench and heads to the facility weve set up for the careful storage of all things deemed supremely important, namely the 'fridge.
She grabs the tix and returns to her perch on the bench.
Its on the 7th She pronounces proudly, and I watch as the realisation creeps across her face.
Oh shit She says. Weve done it again. Well be in New Zealand!!
Unseemly peals of laughter break from us both as we consider the ramifications of our own stupidity.
What are we gonna do? My sweetheart asks, wiping tears from her eyes.
Maybe we could rearrange the trip? she suggests. Since were only leaving the day before, maybe we could reschedule?
I consider this for a moment, but the idea of rebooking planes, trains and automobiles, hotels, motels and crash-pads just seems like too much effort for a $40 ticket.
Nah. I say. Lets just offload the tix.
She seems to accept this admittedly lazy approach and we talk for a few moments about the best way to accomplish it.
We decide that my sister and her girlfriend, who live in Brisbane, would be the best candidates. Well let them use our place as a base of operations and they can make a trip of it. Sorted.
I grab my mobile phone to send her a text message, thinking how great a brother and sister-in-law we are for coughing up two concert tix and the use of our home, gratis. Oh yes, the warm and fuzzies were flowing freely.
As Im thinking how best to compose this grand message of benevolence, I ask my honey, who is still nursing the tickets and giggling intermittently, a relatively simple question:
Hey babe, what day is the 7th?
She consults the tix before and another realisation crosses her face with all the subtlety of a rhino in a nursing home. She slaps her forehead in Homer-esque fashion and looks up at me.
Can we be in town in an hour and a half? she asks.
My confusion must have shown on my face, as she continued: The concert is the 7th of January!!! Its tonight!!!!
A stunned silence ensues as we stare at each other and grapple with a second major revelation in as many minutes.
Im proud to say that at the dropping of this bombshell I uttered something intensely shrewd and insightful. A statement of such profound impact that future generations will be repeating it in similar situations for years to come: Holy fucking SHIT!!! (or something similar)
Picture if you will, at this point; five minutes of comical chaos (a la the Goodies) with the two of us rushing hither and thither in high-speed motion.
Five minute and thirty-seven seconds later we were in the trusty Accent and careening along the Freeway at breakneck speeds, determined to make the gig if it killed us (or some innocent bystanders).
Anyway, as much as some of us dont like to admit it, we all like happy endings and Im pleased to say that this story has one. We made it to the gig, got there early in fact. Got great seats in a venue that isnt supposed to have any, and enjoyed a riot-grrl rock concert of the highest calibre.
But thats a different story for a different day
I was perusing my old writing folder and found it.
For lack of anything better to say, I hope you get a giggle.
(does this sort of shit happen to anybody else, or is it just us??)
The Concert We Almost Didnt Make
Its 6.30 in the evening and Im lying on the couch during a break in a DVD marathon Im enjoying with my girl. Shes sitting on the kitchen bench nearby. Were each involved in our own thoughts, occasionally throwing a random comment back and forth as they come to mind.
My mind drifts to the upcoming Veruca Salt gig we have tickets to. I'm really looking forward to that one. But something important gnaws at the back of mind. I know Im forgetting something.
Dont you hate that feeling?
Anyway I decide to tackle the problem logically.
First things first:
When is the concert?
Early February sometime. Easy.
OK, what else is in February?
Our trip to New Zealand is the first thing to leaps to mind. Thats in early February, too.
Alright! Now were getting somewhere.
Im running all this through my mind and I start, slowly mind you, to see a possible impasse here.
Hon? I say; a forced levity in my voice. What date is that Veruca Salt gig?
She looks up from what shes doing and a slight frown creases her adorable brow as she thinks about it.
Ummm. I dunno. She replies.
She throws herself off the bench and heads to the facility weve set up for the careful storage of all things deemed supremely important, namely the 'fridge.
She grabs the tix and returns to her perch on the bench.
Its on the 7th She pronounces proudly, and I watch as the realisation creeps across her face.
Oh shit She says. Weve done it again. Well be in New Zealand!!
Unseemly peals of laughter break from us both as we consider the ramifications of our own stupidity.
What are we gonna do? My sweetheart asks, wiping tears from her eyes.
Maybe we could rearrange the trip? she suggests. Since were only leaving the day before, maybe we could reschedule?
I consider this for a moment, but the idea of rebooking planes, trains and automobiles, hotels, motels and crash-pads just seems like too much effort for a $40 ticket.
Nah. I say. Lets just offload the tix.
She seems to accept this admittedly lazy approach and we talk for a few moments about the best way to accomplish it.
We decide that my sister and her girlfriend, who live in Brisbane, would be the best candidates. Well let them use our place as a base of operations and they can make a trip of it. Sorted.
I grab my mobile phone to send her a text message, thinking how great a brother and sister-in-law we are for coughing up two concert tix and the use of our home, gratis. Oh yes, the warm and fuzzies were flowing freely.
As Im thinking how best to compose this grand message of benevolence, I ask my honey, who is still nursing the tickets and giggling intermittently, a relatively simple question:
Hey babe, what day is the 7th?
She consults the tix before and another realisation crosses her face with all the subtlety of a rhino in a nursing home. She slaps her forehead in Homer-esque fashion and looks up at me.
Can we be in town in an hour and a half? she asks.
My confusion must have shown on my face, as she continued: The concert is the 7th of January!!! Its tonight!!!!
A stunned silence ensues as we stare at each other and grapple with a second major revelation in as many minutes.
Im proud to say that at the dropping of this bombshell I uttered something intensely shrewd and insightful. A statement of such profound impact that future generations will be repeating it in similar situations for years to come: Holy fucking SHIT!!! (or something similar)
Picture if you will, at this point; five minutes of comical chaos (a la the Goodies) with the two of us rushing hither and thither in high-speed motion.
Five minute and thirty-seven seconds later we were in the trusty Accent and careening along the Freeway at breakneck speeds, determined to make the gig if it killed us (or some innocent bystanders).
Anyway, as much as some of us dont like to admit it, we all like happy endings and Im pleased to say that this story has one. We made it to the gig, got there early in fact. Got great seats in a venue that isnt supposed to have any, and enjoyed a riot-grrl rock concert of the highest calibre.
But thats a different story for a different day
oh, the joys of stoned adolescence...
That was $150 down the drain ..
.. ok .. not such a happy ending .. but anyway ..