Oh no she better don't!

Sometimes I love my life and sometimes I hate it. This last Thursday was no exception of either extreme. Let me start with the bad news first as the good part of the day is so much more exciting.

I had to drop a whopping 1040 bucks for a brake job on my car (down 400 from what the dealer wanted to charge). These euro sport sedans are so high maintenance. This is like my entire paycheck for two weeks so my checking account is looking pretty dismal, I'm hating life and my 20 something income. As costly as my breaks are... I am somewhat thankful I have them. I can't tell you how many times I have looked up from popping in a Mariah Carey CD or looked back to the road after checking out some studs biceps who's rolling the roadster next to me only to find brake lights and bumper in my face. I slam on the breaks and the car stops instantly. These overpriced high performance breaks have surely saved myself from damage, injury, stress, costly repairs, insurance hikes and tardiness. Could you imagine if I had missed my plane to the Winterparty? How embarrassed would I be in front of Mr. Roadster?

With my new brake job and maxed Visa I went to pick up my Russian accomplice (Pavel) and headed down to Mountain View for the Kelly Clarkson concert. All the lawn seats were 25 bucks so why the heck not? We met about 10 guys I know there and proceeded to pound beers and down thick grilled sausages with spicy mustard while waiting for Miss Kelly take stage. She has a new hairdo and I think she looks like a lesbian.

About three songs into the concert I head out of the seating to get another cold one. After arguing with at least three obese concession workers at different windows that they cant all possibly be closed already as its only been three songs. I finally find a beer and head back to the lawn. On the way there this pregnant lady marches up to me and asks me if I would like her 8th row ticket because she is leaving. SWEET!! Sometimes I love my life! The ticket was comped for her as she is a friend of one of the opening band members. I give her an enthusiastic thanks and head back to the lawn to collect the Russian. In return for the ticket I wanted to offer her some of my beer but remember she’s pregnant.

So now I only have one 8th row ticket for me and the Russian. Pavel and I had a brief strategy session over the beer and decided on a plan to get us both past the ticket checkers. Plan is to find the gayest ticket taker we can spot. Within a few minutes of scanning we spot a blonde male ticket taker wearing a pink plastic floral lei with glitter accents. Bingo! We march right up to him and explain our ticket dilemma. He is obviously thrilled to find some of his own kind in a sea of teenage girls. He asked me where I got the ticket but I avoided that question and instead asked him where was the after party because we wanted to party with him. We complimented him on his pink lei and gave him our phone numbers telling him to call us. Mr. Ticket was very flattered and got out his little pad and wrote Pavel a pass to go down to the lower seating. SUCKER!!!!! Me and my Russian Accomplice make such a good team! Mr. Ticket actually called on Friday but we didn't call him back. Is that bad?