The room was dark, and the only areas with any real light were the bars along each wall. Even the bathrooms had a dimly lit grungy ambiance. Because places like this are never dirty or disgusting or too cheap to pay the lighting bill: they have ambiance.
I was a bit nervous approaching the man at the bar, but I needed something and I wasn't sure if he could get it for me.
'Hi. I was wondering if you knew where I could find some--' (let us pause a moment while I think of something to call what I was looking for. Let us call it 'penguins') 'penguins.'
'Oh, that might be a bit tough,' the man at the bar says. 'I don't think we have penguins here, but do you have a male friend with you? 'Cause the guy in the men's bathroom might have what you need.'
I'm a little confused by this, and I wonder if he misheard me. It's possible, even though the really loud music hasn't started yet. 'No, I need penguins.'
'Yeah,' he says, 'The guy in the men's bathroom might still have some.' He motions to another man standing near. 'He'll check for you to see if he's got any.'
I look at this new player in the game. He's youngish and has a drink in his hand and if there ever was someone to be on speaking terms with the 'guy in the men's bathroom,' this would be him. He jerks his head in a signal for me to follow him. The door to the bathroom isn't far. He stops for a second and says,
'Wait here a minute,' then he goes in. I try to nonchalantly lean against a nearby wall, as if a woman standing right outside the men's bathroom was normal. I probably don't succeed.
Fortunately I'm only waiting a few seconds before the man from the bar comes out and says, 'Yeah, he's got some,' and then goes back to the bar, drink in hand.
'The guy in the men's bathroom' holds open the door a crack as I stand outside the portal. 'I need some penguins,' I say to him. He nods and reaches around in a jar for a small plastic tied off bag, and then he names his price. It's reasonable, so I pay him and walk away, relieved both to have found what I was looking for, and to have concluded my business with this shady underworld of nefarious characters. Just in time: the place is starting to fill up. I shove my penguins in my ears and--
Hold on, hold on, maybe now would be a good time to tell you what 'penguins' really are. They're earplugs.
No, I'm serious. I went to a concert last night (Mutemath! They rocked!) but when I got there, I found I'd left my earplugs in the car. Major bummer, as I had a pretty good spot near the stage. Unfortunately, that spot was also right under a huge speaker and as I stared up at its majestic towering-ness, all hopes of being able to hear future unborn grandchildren say 'I love you,' melted into a puddle of, 'What? What was that?'
But I'm in a club/concert hall, right? They have huge amounts of alcohol and lots of loud music: perhaps someone there sells earplugs? I can only hope. Because trying to walk all the way out to my car and back again is not very appealing. So I go to the bar at the far wall (they're not busy) and then the above story happened just as I wrote it. For real. (Only instead of asking for penguins, I was asking for earplugs. And everyone involved was much nicer than they sounded up there.)
Which leads us to some interesting questions: why is there a 'guy in the men's bathroom' who sells earplugs? And if he sells earplugs, why is he doing so in such a strange fashion? Is he not allowed to sell earplugs in the club proper? Does it violate some club rule? Then why is he allowed to sell them in the men's bathroom?
But I have this sneaking hunch, people--and you can tell me if I'm way off here--there's this strange idea floating through my head that earplugs weren't the only thing he was selling in small tied off plastic bags. For a reasonable price.
Fortunately, this does not go down as the most interesting part of my night. The concert absolutely rocked, and although Mutemath appeared a bit tired, they were still on top of their game and gave us a great show. It's been fun to watch them develop as a band, because I was there at one of their earliest concerts, about six months after they (what do you call it as a verb when a band 'bands?' I'm trying to avoid the obvious pun, you understand) started. It was at SoulFest in New Hampshire and we were only waiting for another band to come on later but these guys started playing and they were really good and entertaining and afterward my Dad and I walked the entire fair trying to find their tent and buy a cd or something, but they didn't have a tent. They didn't even have a cd yet. I think it took them another 6 months to a year to do an album, but it was worth the wait. And ever since that day almost ten years ago, it's been worth the wait. WHOO!! MUTEMATH!!!!
Ahem. So really, seeing them in concert was the best part of the night. And not blowing out my eardrums was a good perk too.
But there's a funny thing that happens when you see a band on stage. It doesn't really matter whether they're famous or just people you know vaguely who started a band: they're all so much cooler than you when they're up there playing music. And while ordinarily you might not think much of them if you just saw them walking down the street, at a concert--given the chance, you'll fight for a chance to shake their hand. Because fame (real or perceived) is like that. It's as if the closer you are to a famous person the more real you become. Silly, isn't it, but we all feel it. It's why we try to stand at the front during a concert, or why we wait for hours afterward just to talk to them. It's why we see celebrities everywhere we look because maybe just by recognizing them we're a bit more important than we were before. (and btw, there was totally a Matt Damon look-alike hugging his girlfriend in front of me. Could have been his kid or a cousin or something. Had the nose and the facial structure and everything :) )
So at the end of the concert when I was only two people away from the railing and Paul Meany was coming over to our end, I pushed forward and shook the sweaty hand of fame.
What did you expect? He'd just been rockin' out for two hours straight!
ha! you crack me up. and that is a *very* suspicious sounding fellow in the men's room... trust you to go getting mixed up in something messy. ;P
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