scott wrote:Second show in my life I've come home with injured knees. SO nice. Only the second time I've seen the STNNNG, and it was even better than the first. Looking forward to the third. Apologies to anybody who may have been wounded. It wasn't until on the way home that Tutku told me the specifics of how violent green-shirt-guy apparently was. Every time I touched somebody who wasn't one of the three idiots ruining it for folks, I apologized profusely. I didn't realize we were ruining it for anybody. Most fun I've had at a show in I don't know how many years.
There were no swords, which is maybe a good thing.
1,000,000 x NOT CRAP
Besinger apparently assumed green shirt guy was actually me.
Wrong, Chris. I must really be acting like an ass on this board if you assumed that blowhole was me. Green-Shirt Bro followed my lady friend and I to the L...he would have been too drunk to get home on his own. He seemed like a nice enough guy...he just didn't know how to behave at a rock show. His name turned out to be Dave. He really did piss me off as well. At one point, he grabbed me and dragged me around against my will. I went with the flow, but I was very happy once he let me go.
I guess it's not
too bad that he was bumping around...physical contact at a punk rock show...seems healthy, you know? I think he was gettin' the best of Faiz though...I seem to remember Faiz threatening to "jack [him] in the side of the head!" or something to that effect.
I got pretty drunk myself as a matter of fact...my lady friend snuck in a bottle of Jack that I would pull on once in a while between my beers. Eventually we were able to dump Dave, but not before I got his drunk-ass phone number. I thought some of you might like to have a word with Mr. Green-Shirt Dude. Let the inexplicable crank calls begin (he was pretty drunk...I'll bet he blacked out). Enjoy!:
(708) 724-8216. HAHAHA...
After this, I got into a drunken conversation on the CTA with a black guy who was planning on voting for Hillary Clinton for president because "Bill would be running shit." We argued about this at length...I went off about why Barack Obama could be a great candidate...the other guy didn't consider Barack to be one of his "people." So we kept arguing...he was a cool guy...we enjoyed talking to him. When we got to the Racine stop, I said bye to the guy I was arguing with...turned around...the subway doors
close. The anti-Obama black guys knew I had to get off at Racine, or I was gonna be separated from Kali. They got up...pulled down the emergency lever...the doors opened.
The train was really startin' to move now...I had to make a split-second drunk-o decision. I was reminded of the scene in
Beavis and Butthead Do America when Beavis and Butthead break out of the trunk of the Bruce Willis guy's car on a busy highway. I watched the ground as it began moving faster and faster...and faster...I thought "this is gonna be bad...but at least I'll learn what happens when you try and land on your feet from a speeding vehicle." I jumped. I fell flat. The guys on the train who helped me must have thought I was fucking nuts. I skinned my elbow in a couple spots...the left part of my hip got skinned too. Incredibly, I was barely hurt at all. I caught up to Kali...who apparently didn't notice I had to
jump off the speeding train before the platform ended. I washed my wounds on the West Side...bandaged them up knowing that my punk rock battle scars were gonna STNG badly today. They do. I took pictures for my grandmother a couple hours ago...with all the skinned spots on my joints, posing was a bitch.
By the end of the night, I was pretty smashed, so if I came across as pretty drunk...well...I was. The whiskey really did me in. Still, it was great meeting Sandra, Tutku, Faiz, Chris B., J. Michael, Adam B., Jesse, "Nate-tallica," Randall (I think it was "Randall"), Scott, John, and Bob W. I hope I didn't look
too stupid toward the end of the night. It was really fun. Thank yous all around...to everybody.
