So this summer, BFF and I went to the hotbox of Satan’s Armpit to see my all time favorite band in concert. Yup…that’s right. We went to see Duran Duran again because I love going to see them live whenever I cn and BFF just tags along for the fun. I have loved them since I was in junior high and any chance to see them perform live is a treat for me. I mean, I have only missed one tour in all these years. One. I admit it. I am a die-hard Duranie through and through. So, I purchase the tickets the minute they went on sale and got us floor seats as close as I could possibly get to see my beloved John Taylor. We got down to the floor and were told where the closest bathroom and bar were by one of the ushers. Wait? Bar? Is this a thing at all concerts now or is it just the age of the people coming to see Duran Duran that we feel the need to have a bar at the concert? Whatever the case may be, we opted out of that part as we wanted to enjoy the concert and remember it. Obviously, others did not. Let me tell you….some people should have been cut off before the concert even started.
There we were, sitting in our seats and realizing we should have brought earplugs to drown out the horrible DJ that was playing when all of a sudden, this giant man came and plunked himself and his beer next to me. It was quickly obvious to me that he had been pre concert partying as he almost spilled his beer on me no less than three times. After apologizing, he then decided it was a good idea to talk to me. Nope. Slow your roll buddy. I don’t need to have a conversation with you. He proceeded to ask me about Duran Duran and who I liked the most. His group was only there to see the opening act Chic and didn’t care about Duran Duran you see. I learned a lot about this dude who I didn’t really want to talk to as he blabbered on and on about things. Then, he abruptly stood up and left mid sentence and I breathed a sigh of relief. I think he might have realized his beer was empty. Unfortunately for me, he returned to slosh some more beer around and try to have a conversation with me again. Stop it. I am not going to give you my number. Right before the concert started, the usher came over with some people and asked to see this guys ticket and asked him if he was in the right seat. He didn’t even know where his seat was and that was not his so Drunken Dude was led away and a gal sat next to me that was neither drunk nor did she want to have a conversation with a stranger. Thank goodness.
About this time, the people seated next to BFF showed up. Wow were they drunk. And I don’t mean by a little, I mean DRUUUUNNNNKKKK. Let’s add into the fact that she was like an Amazonian woman and BFF is a tiny little woman. Oh boy. When the concert started, we stood to dance and that is when the trouble started. Because what happens when you are that drunk? Pretty sure you lack the coordination to control your own limbs. This drunk woman kept knocking into BFF and standing in front of her so she couldn’t see. I mean even I would not be able to see over this Amazonian of a woman. Bing the spunky little woman BFF is, she finally tapped the lady and told her she kept standing in front of her. Luckily, the Amazonian was nice and made sure it didn’t happen again. The guy she was with? Not so much. When The Reflex was played, this was apparently his favorite song and he proceeded to show his love for this song by dancing along the row in front of us in drunk fashion, pointing and singing. It was quite hilarious if I had wanted to see a show of a drunk trying to be Simon Le Bon. Guess what buddy? You aren’t Simon so take your drunk ass back to your seat and stay there. Ugh. I hate drunk people. Ok…really I just hate people. But seriously, why the drinking at concerts? Is it just a ploy for the venues to make more money? Are people just incapable of enjoying music without it? And how many of these people try to drive home after drinking at a concert? BFF and I? We will stick to just enjoying our fangirl moment and screaming like 13-year-old girls. Yeah…that happened.
Oh yeah. I didn’t die today. Instead I suffered through some drunk experiences at a Duran Duran concert but didn’t die. I am Fat Girl who is also a teenage Duranie fangirl for life Running. The experiment continues…