1. Thank you, Brittany.
2. Vegas:
I don't know where to begin. I had no idea it was possible to do so much in 48 hours. Life is a funny, funny thing.
To fully appreciate my weekend excursion, the stage must be set properly. In order to do that, we must go back two weeks to me and Lisa's mini (by comparison) adventure beginning in Cleveland and winding up in Baltimore. Upon entering the House of Blues in Cleveland, I immediately became enamored with the bass play of the opening band. Lisa has a history with the lead singer of the second band in the line up. And so, we had worlds of fun frolicking back stage and spending the night with American Steel (her band connection).
I didn't get to spend much time with The Fashion that night. Only spoke briefly with their roadie and drummer. I smiled at the bas player, but then it was time to go.
In Baltimore, things were hopping. We had a great time. And I entertained the members of The Fashion for what seemed like hours with my whiskey enhanced attempts at Danish and classy toasts. But, alas, as t.b. player and I started talking it was time for them to be whisked away to New York. My fantasy was coming to an end...
...or so I thought.
Fast forward to last Thursday. Because of my nutty-ness and lust for good stories, I planned a 48 hour whirlwind trip to Vegas, planning to go alone. At the last minute I convinced Lisa to come along and she will forever be glad that she did.
We didn't have a plan. All we knew is that we arrived at 9:30 Thursday morning, the sold-out show was at 7 Friday night, and that maybe--
maybe--Rory (American Steel's lead signer) could come through for us as he did in Cleveland and Baltimore to get us on the list. No need for tickets.
But that was anything but pressing. We decided to not even worry about that until the following afternoon. After all, we had a city of sin to indulge in.
Well, one gondola ride, 20 something awe-inspiring hotels, one Slash's birthday bash, two night clubs, a stupendous, button busting buffet (twice!), a 3 am dip in the pool, 3 Grand Marnier margaritas, $300 in shopping, cutting a rug on the bar, and one 7am walk of shame later we were ready for day two.
Total hours of Thursday night sleep: 2 1/2
We hit the streets for a second day with $1 frozen margaritas, the best $25 ever spent (a.k.a. the wax museum) and some high end window shopping. By 2pm it was time for the all or nothing text message. Our response was less than encouraging, but at least we got one:
"Oh no! I wish you would have told me sooner. We have so many friends coming to the show I don't know if we can get you on, but I'll see what I can do."
Ok, no worries. I mean, Lisa was a little more stressed than I. After all, I had nothing to lose, and was just having a great time being in Vegas. But I decided we should go back and get ready and go to the show anyway, even if we never heard back from Rory. There's always tickets available to a sold out show.
6:30. On the bus to the House of Blues in Mandalay Bay. And then, sweet victory. A text from Rory--"You're on."
Yes.
We got to the window with no time to spare. Our complimentary tickets were handed to us and we strutted through the door like true VIPers, which we weren't but whatever. I had never even heard of Alkaline Trio as of three weeks ago, but by this point I had chilled in their green room in two different cities.
The Fashion were already playing. We worked our way to the center of the crowd and danced like little girls in running through sprinklers on a steamy summer afternoon. We stood out in this punk arrangement with "scene kids" crossing their arms and looking on with contempt. I was having the time of my life. Not only had everything worked out for me (as usual) but I really do think that The Fashion rock. And then things got better. Around the fourth song I caught t.b. player's eye. His pick was clinched in his teeth which he revealed in a delighted smile, to which he added and point and a wink. He saw, recognized, and was excited to see me. How could this be?! How enchanting. I squeezed Lisa's hand...this night had only just begun.
We stayed though American Steel's set and then bolted for the merch tables to hang out with Danthrax (AmSteel's roadie) and The Fashion. They filtered out one at a time from the backstage, and with each new addition came hugs and excitement for seeing me there. I didn't even think they'd remember who I was. They laughed about me buying a t-shirt, since I could have gotten one for free for simply sleeping with Anders. All of them went on and on at how the only audience member they ever showed on the backstage monitor was me. "You don't understand," screamed Jackob, the over expressive lead signer, "it wasn't like they kept showing your section or you and the person next to you. No. It was just your face the whole time!"
What can I say? The camera man had a crush on me.
At this point t.b. player still hadn't arrived. Anders warned me that the two of them were roommates that night and that anything that happened between t.b. and I was going on back at my place cause he wasn't dealing with it. I laughed, but also was amazed at this since I never would have thought that it was some kind of common knowledge that he and I had hit it off.
Remember, I was still taken aback by them
remembering my face.
My time at the merch table that night was some of the best times. We just laughed and joked for the rest of the show. A great fight went down a few yards in front of us, and when Alkaline Trio had called it quits for the night Lisa (who had gone back into the HOB to watch the show) and I found ourselves to be the guests of the Fashion and AmSteel for the official Epic Records after party.
...more to come.
We saw so many shows at so many venues. The Fest is really a spectacular music festival--held in a town at great venues not too far apart from one another. We chowed down on Taco Bell at one point and then went to this weird coffee shop/copying/real estate/sub place (no joke).
