No really, what's with the sweater?
My friends and I attended a recent punk show benefitting Youth Shelters. The cause was just and the bill was promising—it boasted local acts Monkeyshines and Freudian Slit, as well as Austin's Woven Bones. All was not well, however. What follows are the actual events and conversations that transpired.
7:40 pm: Jasper and Ryan arrive at my house with beer.
Me: Facebook said the show starts at 8, so if we show up at 8:30 or 8:45 we should be OK.
Jasper: I hate sitting around waiting for bands to start. Plus, if we're fashionably late, people will think we're cool.
Me: No they won't. At least not you.
Ryan: Nobody ever thinks you're cool.
8:35 pm: Jasper and Ryan finish their beers, and our spooky friend Matt comes to pick us up.
Matt: Get in the car, losers.
8:47 pm: We arrive at the VFW (307 Montezuma Ave.) and pay our $5.
Me: Holy shit! You can smoke in here?!
Matt: Yeah. It's not, like, a public bar. That's why we had to sign in as guests.
Me (noticing local DJ Alley Al): And this guy's playing Minor Threat? This is gonna be a good show.
Jasper (non-smoker): I can't believe how smoky it is in here. This sucks.
Me, Ryan and Matt (smokers): Shut up. This rules.
9:34 pm: Almost an hour has passed since our arrival, and no bands.
Jasper: I thought you said this thing started at 8?
Me: I thought it did.
Jasper: Well, this sucks.
Me: At least Alley Al is playing Los Angeles by X.
Ryan: X sucks.
Me: You suck.
9:47 pm: DJ Alley Al is providing great music, but no bands have played yet. Tempers are running high.
Ryan: This is the WORST!
Me: Yeah. I came to see bands!
Matt: Why don't you guys cry? And hug.
Jasper: Totally. You should.
10:06 pm: Freudian Slit, a two-piece band that consists of guitar and drums, finally starts its set. I can't tell if these guys are serious or not.
Me: Look at this guy's amazing ironic sweater. It must be weird to have the line between liking things and ironically liking things blur.
Ryan: Fuck that sweater.
Jasper: You wouldn't rock that sweater?
Matt: Not for a million bucks.
Me: Liar.
10:15 pm: I decide to get closer to the stage to watch. This lasts only long enough for me to get a photo.
Me (returning to the table): I see what these guys are going for. Kind of a Melvins-esque stoner-metal thing meets the intricacy of Fugazi. And they were just singing, "Money's making me/Shake that ass." I doubt they've actually ever done that. Ultimately, the parts are good, but something isn't quite right. It seems goofy to me. Almost like one of those hipster joke bands I've heard so much about.
Jasper: It's too smoky in here. I need air. I can't breathe. I don't even care about the other bands.
Me: Even I need air. I wish this show had started on time. I don't even want to stay for the rest. Let's go. I lose all interest when I've been sitting around waiting for hours. I wish Monkeyshines had come on first. That band steers clear of sweaters altogether.
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