the plus one
For some reason, I was reminded of something that happened to me while I was down in San Diego while I was driving back home from my brief Thanksgiving break.
First off, I haven't seen the last three weeks of Lost. I decided to tape tonight's instead of watching it so I can see it all at once, and I plan on doing that early next week, once all this magazine business is once again put to rest. I'm going through serious withdrawals, though. I feel the need to go on excursions.
Anyway, I was in San Diego interviewing Coheed and Cambria, this band that kinda sounds like Rush. I got to talk to the lead singer, and he seemed like a pretty swell guy. I also had two tickets to the show, and since I didn't have anything better to do, I decided to stick around and watch them, even though I'd seen them the night before at this really small bar (and they rocked the place).
That night's show, at Soma, was sold out, but I had an extra ticket, because I had a plus one. I have plus ones a lot. I always ask publicists for plus ones, mostly out of habit, but oddly enough, it's like pulling teeth to get someone to go to a free show. I actually tried to give my extra ticket to this really cute waitress at this Irish pub I had lunch at, but that didn't go so well. While in San Diego, I'd gotten in the habit of asking locals for directions, or where I should go to get something to eat. The Irish pub was one such suggestion. I asked the cute waitress how to get to Soma. She wasn't sure, but she soon returned with detailed instructions and then asked me who I was going to see. When I told her, she said that she was jealous because she really wanted to go to that show. Without thinking about it, I let her know that I had an extra ticket, which I probably shouldn't have done. I think it made her uncomfortable, and I felt like a big jerk. But when she handed me my check, she wrote "Have fun at the show tonight!" on it, and that was pretty cool.
So I was at Soma with an extra ticket. After the long line had filed in, I strolled up to the will call to get my tickets and then turned away from the window and said "Does anyone need a ticket?" I was soon mobbed, but the first person who got to me--I was the oldest person at this concert mind you--was this beautiful girl (it seemed like everyone in that city was beautiful) in a tube top. She was probably 17 or something, but, to put it tactfully, she was very well endowed, and she wasn't shy about it.
"How much?!" she asked quickly. She was with another girl and a guy.
No sooner did she ask than two painfully geeky and awkward young guys came over.
"You have a ticket?!" One of them had one already, but the other kid, this lanky high school kid in an Iron Maiden T-shirt did not. Coheed and Cambria is really kinda geeky, the lead singer does a comic book and shit, and I could see how stoked they both were to get in the show, but the girl asked me first, so I told them, "sorry, but if she doesn't want it, it's yours."
I turned back to the girl and I told her $10. The tickets were $15, I think, but I'd gotten them for free, so I really didn't care. It was an all-ages show, obviously, and in California that means no booze, but they had plenty of candy for sale, and I had a hankering for Twix.
"Do you want it?" I asked her.
She paused and I could tell that she did, but she had to call someone first. I assume, her boyfriend who couldn't be there. She was like, "you only have one?" I said, yeah.
While she was on the phone, the two geeky kids said they'd give me $100 for the ticket, but when I called them on it, they said they couldn't. I have to admit, I was kinda hoping the girl wouldn't take it, even though she really did have a great rack. There. I said it.
I was trying to act like this whole ordeal was cutting into my day, but I was really getting a kick out of it. I remember being a kid and how concerts weren't as easy for me to get into as they are now. The three kids were acting like this was the defining moment of their summer, and I was kinda the gatekeeper to the magical land of rock. Or something like that.
Finally, the girl got off the phone and walked back toward me. The conversation didn't seem to go well. I said, "C'mon, yes or no?" She stomped her foot once, huffed, and then said, "Nevermind, let them take it." I hope she held it over her boyfriend's head that he guilted her into not seeing the concert. Meanwhile, geek camp was stoked. Dude in the Iron Maiden shirt might have peed himself. I sold them the ticket for $10, but I know I could have jacked up the price. They would have paid it, and I saw that they had the money.
The concert was really good, again. I had a great time, and chatted up some cute indie hipster lady working at the candy counter about Bright Eyes, who'd played there a few nights before. Sometimes inane knowledge is a good thing. At one point between bands, I bumped into geek camp again, having the time of their lives--at least for that week. They were like, "hey dude! You rock!"
I know, kids, I know.
First off, I haven't seen the last three weeks of Lost. I decided to tape tonight's instead of watching it so I can see it all at once, and I plan on doing that early next week, once all this magazine business is once again put to rest. I'm going through serious withdrawals, though. I feel the need to go on excursions.
Anyway, I was in San Diego interviewing Coheed and Cambria, this band that kinda sounds like Rush. I got to talk to the lead singer, and he seemed like a pretty swell guy. I also had two tickets to the show, and since I didn't have anything better to do, I decided to stick around and watch them, even though I'd seen them the night before at this really small bar (and they rocked the place).
That night's show, at Soma, was sold out, but I had an extra ticket, because I had a plus one. I have plus ones a lot. I always ask publicists for plus ones, mostly out of habit, but oddly enough, it's like pulling teeth to get someone to go to a free show. I actually tried to give my extra ticket to this really cute waitress at this Irish pub I had lunch at, but that didn't go so well. While in San Diego, I'd gotten in the habit of asking locals for directions, or where I should go to get something to eat. The Irish pub was one such suggestion. I asked the cute waitress how to get to Soma. She wasn't sure, but she soon returned with detailed instructions and then asked me who I was going to see. When I told her, she said that she was jealous because she really wanted to go to that show. Without thinking about it, I let her know that I had an extra ticket, which I probably shouldn't have done. I think it made her uncomfortable, and I felt like a big jerk. But when she handed me my check, she wrote "Have fun at the show tonight!" on it, and that was pretty cool.
So I was at Soma with an extra ticket. After the long line had filed in, I strolled up to the will call to get my tickets and then turned away from the window and said "Does anyone need a ticket?" I was soon mobbed, but the first person who got to me--I was the oldest person at this concert mind you--was this beautiful girl (it seemed like everyone in that city was beautiful) in a tube top. She was probably 17 or something, but, to put it tactfully, she was very well endowed, and she wasn't shy about it.
"How much?!" she asked quickly. She was with another girl and a guy.
No sooner did she ask than two painfully geeky and awkward young guys came over.
"You have a ticket?!" One of them had one already, but the other kid, this lanky high school kid in an Iron Maiden T-shirt did not. Coheed and Cambria is really kinda geeky, the lead singer does a comic book and shit, and I could see how stoked they both were to get in the show, but the girl asked me first, so I told them, "sorry, but if she doesn't want it, it's yours."
I turned back to the girl and I told her $10. The tickets were $15, I think, but I'd gotten them for free, so I really didn't care. It was an all-ages show, obviously, and in California that means no booze, but they had plenty of candy for sale, and I had a hankering for Twix.
"Do you want it?" I asked her.
She paused and I could tell that she did, but she had to call someone first. I assume, her boyfriend who couldn't be there. She was like, "you only have one?" I said, yeah.
While she was on the phone, the two geeky kids said they'd give me $100 for the ticket, but when I called them on it, they said they couldn't. I have to admit, I was kinda hoping the girl wouldn't take it, even though she really did have a great rack. There. I said it.
I was trying to act like this whole ordeal was cutting into my day, but I was really getting a kick out of it. I remember being a kid and how concerts weren't as easy for me to get into as they are now. The three kids were acting like this was the defining moment of their summer, and I was kinda the gatekeeper to the magical land of rock. Or something like that.
Finally, the girl got off the phone and walked back toward me. The conversation didn't seem to go well. I said, "C'mon, yes or no?" She stomped her foot once, huffed, and then said, "Nevermind, let them take it." I hope she held it over her boyfriend's head that he guilted her into not seeing the concert. Meanwhile, geek camp was stoked. Dude in the Iron Maiden shirt might have peed himself. I sold them the ticket for $10, but I know I could have jacked up the price. They would have paid it, and I saw that they had the money.
The concert was really good, again. I had a great time, and chatted up some cute indie hipster lady working at the candy counter about Bright Eyes, who'd played there a few nights before. Sometimes inane knowledge is a good thing. At one point between bands, I bumped into geek camp again, having the time of their lives--at least for that week. They were like, "hey dude! You rock!"
I know, kids, I know.
3 comments:
J i hear LOST is a real "no go" this second season. I keep reading people are disappointed with it.
Awww.. You're like a father figure to those young geeks. How sweet!
Michelle- Some parts are a bit flat this season, but last night's episode hinted at some really exciting things to come.
That's the Christmas spirit right there. You did a good deed.
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