Some of you saw me at The Cure concert this week. It made me reflect on how different going to a concert is now as opposed to when I was young. So, my Deep Thoughts Thursday with The Boozy Weathergirl is going to focus on all the things I observed to NYC and back.
1
My sisters and I were walking around a clearly-marked, but unfamiliar, Metro station to get into the city. We needed a little afternoon caffeine jolt, so we were carrying our disposable coffee cups from Big Mouth Coffee. As we ridiculously debated which way to get to the train, I'll admit we sounded like space cadets. This was only better confirmed by the two guys, who obviously hung out there often, watching us and commenting, "that ain't no coffee in those cups!" #doyouknowme
2
As we sat there on the Metro, we were in one of those four-person seats near the door. I was astounded at how many drunk millennials could not figure out how to open the door to get in the train car. I mean, these kids were dumb AF. There were not one, but TWO buttons on each door, clearly marked with the word "PRESS" and a sign next to them that read "Press to Open." #whatiswrongwithyou
3
Every time the dude who checks the tickets walked by a mysterious odor of skunk seemed to waft through the train car. I often wondered how one could stand such a boring, thankless job. Now I know.
4
Back in the day, my dinner before the show would have been a cart dog or falafel, eaten on the run, if we ate at all. Yesterday, we must have looked at a million menus, trying to accommodate everyone's outlandish dietary restrictions.
5
I spent a while focusing on the best way to hide my vodka nips in my bag, so that security would not discover them. Despite many different suggestions and options, I failed. The nips were dumped in the trash, and I ended up blaming my husband (who was not there) for covertly putting them in my bag. I knew I should have just shoved them in my bra!
6
My desire to smuggle in liquor was not unfounded, as the 12-ounce can of "margarita" that I purchased upon entry cost $20 (with tip)!!! Next time, I'm just showing up drunk like I did in high school. They won't throw you out for that, but they'll condemn you for trying to add a $2 boost to the drinks you're already buying from them?
7
Old people can't find their seats. Most of the audience started listening to The Cure sometime in the 1980s. That puts the median age there close to 45 years old. This means we can't see little numbers on chair arms while we're dressed like goth royalty, trying to relive our youth. Between that and the amount of legal and illegal substances being consumed, it was purely comical watching people trying to locate their friends and family.
8
To add to the age divide, it was equally comical watching Boomers, Gen Xers and Xennials puzzled by their inability to use cash at any of the kiosks at MSG. My advice to the world - download any digital wallet you feel comfortable with and use it regularly. It's the wave of the future (well, it's actually in the here and now), and cash is something no one even understands anymore. Want to confuse the shit out of a Millenial or Gen Zer? Hand them some cash and ask for exact change.
9
Phone lights are not the same as lighters. I've been to many concerts since I've owned a smartphone with a flashlight. Alas, no matter how many times I use my phone as a slow-song tribute beacon, it just doesn't feel the same as hearing the flick of the BIC, holding up an honest-to-God flame to let an artist know you feel their inner fire coming to you through a song.
10
Hoping no one else ends their night as I did mine - walking at the speed of light through bustling streets, straining my lungs and calves, and making it to the 12:43am train after a four-hour concert. Success! Instantly passing out, probably drooling and snoring as well, until just about before our stop. Having a ride to my sister's apartment, hiking up six flights of stairs, ready to pee and hit the hay, and making it. Also, success! EXCEPT, her landlord came into the apartment while we were at the concert, locked the door in such a way that it was jammed, preventing us from unlocking the door and causing the key to break in the lock. Also not answering either her 3:00am phone call or text, leaving us the option of either sleeping in the car or freeloading at the unfurnished apartment across the hall. LUCKILY, our other sister got a hotel room for a romantic evening with her beaux in the next town over. Romance squelched, but we do have one hell of a story for our book of life! (And happy, happy birthday today to the sister whose love life we messed with!)
As I sat there drinking my overpriced Cutwater cocktail from a can last night, I started to think of what Goth Rockers would like to consume instead. It seems I am not the only one who thought this, so I present you with a list of 17 options that are sure to incite the post-punk purveyor inside you.
Show me, show me, show me how you mix that drink
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