a Little Salty's

Random Rantings & Ravings

Thousand Foot Krutch Concert

I had a fanfuckingtastic time at the Thousand Foot Krutch Concert at the Ridgeport Pub on Friday, March 10, 2006. I dragged my brother, Bobby to it & he was such a good sport & a real trooper considering the amount of time we spent waiting when he's not really into alternative music & had a 7:45 am tee time.

The flyer said it started at 7pm & for once in my life I was ready on time, so we get there at 7pm exactly & find out that it is actually starting at 9pm. Apparently 9pm start time is a relative term b/s that was the time that you got to get in line for a wristband. For some crazy reason, I thought pre-purchasing the tickets would let me skip this part but the tickets were just to trade in for the wristbands. Thankfully we were 2nd in line b/c it got really long. At 10 something, they finally give us our wristbands & let us into the bar where we get to line up again for 15 more minutes until we get in the concert place.

Luckily, we get a booth right up front b/c my feet are killing me from skinning my toe, pulling a thigh muscle & wearing 4 inch heels & a corset despite all my injuries. This booth, which seemed so perfect at first, turns out to be my nemesis b/c this guy in his 30s joins us (not a cutie by any stretch or # or beers) & he never shuts up. And its worse than just constant chatter during a damn concert, he keeps telling the same boring ass stories - directly after sitting with us, he tells 6 times directly in row about having to change into a real shirt b/c he was in tank top & there was dress but lucky for him he had a t-shirt in the car ... zzz.... After ever so engaging story, the repeats lessened to 2 or 3 times per story, maybe they didn't really b/c I was doing my best to ignore him & he chattered at brother for most of night but the stories I couldn't avoid were still boring.

Since Mr. Chatterbox was buying drinks, I did my ignoring, cold shoulder thingie really nicely even though I kept having to go up b/c I know the bartender (& the reason I leave 5$ tips is that I walk up & get served immediately & the girl next to me damn near faints b/c she's been waiting 25 minutes for a beer). So for 3 or 4 times as beer bitch, I carry 1 beer in my hand,1 tucked btw my boobs (gotta love those corsets) & Bobby's amaretto in my other hand up until I got most of my beer down my shirt. At that point I designated Bobby beer bitch b/c carrying like that was fun for attention at first but it quickly lost its appeal when the room began its slight spin.

Back to why this booth is my nemesis. In my continuing efforts to ignore Mr. Chatterbox & actually listen to the two opening acts (which were actually pretty good for local bands though I have already forgotten their names), I try to tuck my legs under me & the table so I can face outwards towards the stage. Such a bad idea . . . I fell right out of the damn booth and landed flat on my face, directly on the shoes of the owner b/c who the hell house would be walking by at that particular moment in time. The owner, Bob, is super cool about my dive onto his feet, he promptly helps me up as my brother guffaws & blames it all on the booth (as do I). I have to describe it a little more so you can fully appreciate the hilarity of my freefall. The bad booth is raised up a high step, my legs were almost tucked under me & the table itself so when I pitched out of the booth, I went out sideways and landed in a football running-back-like position, --face first & then my legs slowly followed. I blame it on the booth, the boots and/or the broken toe/pulled but Bobby would probably say it was the 9 or 10 or more beers that I pounded during our very long wait.

After that the room was definitely spinning, but I didn't care b/c now its 12am & Thousand Foot Krutch finally takes the stage and just rocks the place. I found out that they plan on dropping one my favorite songs as their next single, it's called "Absolute". They are a famous band, but the fame is still relatively new so they are really appreciative of it & fans. They mentioned a few times that they felt blessed to be there & couldn't wait to chill w/ everyone at the bar after the show. For their last song they did the one that's all over the radio now, it's called "Move" & the whole place stood up & danced, even Bobby. Somehow I managed not to fall off the cushioned seat of the booth as I rocked out with everybody.

Disappointingly but understandably, (see the 1st paragraph on Bobby being a trooper), Bobby hauled ass out right after that song so I don't know if they did an encore or really came down to chill but now I am comfortable going to these concerts alone b/c I now know that I really don't want or need to talk to anyone during the concert & you make friends as wait in never-ending lines.

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