Last night my husband and I took our daughters, 6 & 9, to see (the aging band) KISS at Jiffy Lube Live (what kind of name is "Jiffy Lube Live" for a venue? DC area residents remember the Capital Centre - we called it the "Cap Centre". What am I supposed to call this new place - "The Lube"? Inappropriate!)
It was a special night for us. In 1977 my husband saw his first concert and it was KISS. Last night was our daughters' first concert as well. It felt like a circle being completed. It was a very heartwarming and sweet experience - how could we not be moved by our girls faces as Gene Simmons spit fire and spewed blood?
As wonderful and family-oriented as the evening was, I was disturbed to notice that I have entered a new phase in my life. It's "The only people who flirt with you are old or drunk" phase. (My handsome husband seems to be stuck in the "Cute waitresses and concierges at your hotel" phase. I don't begrudge him that.)
I first noticed that I had entered this new phase as I exited our row and had to walk by three older (and drunk - two treats in one!) gentlemen who did not stand to let me by. So I had to decide whether to scootch by these men with my tush or my crotch in their faces. I chose crotch and immediately regretted it because in this position I could see their faces as I passed - they grinned up at me. Ew. (I believe it is technically called "leering" as opposed to "flirting" when you become their age.) When I returned from the concession stand I slid down the aisle with my rear end towards them, but I didn't feel any better about it. It was truly a lose-lose situation, for me anyway.
On a positive note, if Gene or Paul got drunk I'm positive I could get backstage.
No comments:
Post a Comment