Sunday night I went to see the Blue October show. I was all prepared for drinking and men in eyeliner. Unfortunately, I got this:I was standing in the crowd alone. I left my buddies back at our table so I could watch them perform "Hate Me." An overweight, Cheeto-stained finger D&Der approached me.
"You're not dancing."
"It's a show, you don't dance."
"Yes you do!"
"No one else is."
"Here." He puts his arm around my shoulders and begins to sway me in the gayest possible way. I imagined karate chopping him in the neck. "This is fun, right?" he asks.
Get your effing hands off me. "Yeah, this is great." I stop moving.
"I bet you're hard to please."
Way to impress a lady with these social skills you've got there. "I wouldn't say that."
"I bet you don't dance in the car." What is this guy's obsession with dancing?
I do actually, quite frequently when my Mint Royale is playing. "Um, no."
"You should."
"I drive Intown, everyone is crazy and you really have to pay attention not to get into an accident."
"Well you should take 75. That way you can dance while you're stopped in traffic!"
"NO! I WILL NOT TAKE I75 AT SIX FUCKING O'CLOCK JUST SO I CAN DANCE IN MY CAR. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!?"
4 comments:
Holy crap, my evil twin now lives in Hotlanta! It has to be him. He likes the cheetohs and loves to dance but doesn't know how. He sits in traffic to conceal his dirty little secrets. If his penis was huge it would totally be him.
Wow, he creeps me out! What happened when you yelled at him?
I didn't give him the chance to respond, I just walked back to our table. My boys came and stood with me the rest of the show, ready to protect me if he came back. :)
Haha! That is creepy. He was trying to help you by telling what routes you can dance on and you yell at him? what's wrong with you ;)
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