Dear person(s) attending House of Blues last night*

Dear person(s) attending the concert at House of Blues last night* ... I wonder if you realized, when paying for a ticket, and standing in line to get in and going through security and asking the man in the yellow shirt how to get to the bar and restrooms, that you were, indeed, going to a concert? A show where a single person or group of persons sing and play instruments on stage. A show in which many people put a lot of time, effort and energy into developing. I tend to think you somehow did not realize any of this since you didn't fucking shut up during the entire show (except maybe for that split second when you realized the cute girl on stage was singing a Britney Spears cover, at which time you decided to start blabbing again -- "oh my god! is that, like, a britney spears song? oh my god, did you, like, SEE that reality show, or something, she has? I totally think she is like, crazy or something because, like...") And YOU, my friend, the one who decided to stand RIGHT in front of me to get a better view of a show you intended to talk to your middle age crisis buddy through, may get one of my bullets (see: bullet game; instructions to be given at a later date). And to the PTA party standing next to my boyfriend (who may not be the biggest fan of those on stage but at least has the decency not to talk while the artists are performing and clap at appropriate times...), We don't give a FUCK how many shot glasses you have and that you LOOOVVEEE Nicholas Cage! Don't expect congratulations from us --> (you know, the ones standing next to you who paid to see and HEAR the show which is happening right the fuck in front of you) for your completion of your Hard Rock cafe shot glass collection and thus, the start of your House of Blues shot glass collection. I hope they all break during the next earthquake. To the older cosmo looking woman standing behind me with your gay pool boy, don't swing THOSE things around until you know how to work them. If you need to consult your surgeon again, I think you should take the time to do so.

And finally, my dearest HOB... #1, You have a lovely venue here in good ol' Sandy Eggo and we are thrilled to have you, however, let's try not to make all 21 and overs stay upstairs. The majority of the people there were, surprisingly, over 21 and thus, stuck all together on the balcony. With alcohol. If there are more 21+ tickets sold for a show, let the majority group be downstairs. If there are more under 21 tickets sold, then they can have the downstairs. Just a thought that your security guards and patrons may thank you for later. #1b, No one REALLY expected drink/food prices to be reasonable, so I won't touch that subject. #2, To prevent assholes who don't have a clue who's playing on stage to ruin the concert experience for others, maybe force a little quiz upon purchasing a ticket. Something simple even, like 'Name one person on the bill tonight...'. In addition, do not, I repeat, DO NOT allow someone to buy a ticket if they simply point and grunt when asked which show they want to purchase tickets for. In the case of June 14, 2005, the point and grunt probably means, "I don't know who any of these bands are, but the HOB is the new hot, trendy place to be in San Diego (just like PETCO Park was in the 2004 season) so I don't care who is playing, I will be SEEN here dammit and tell all my PTA friends that I went to the new HOB!" Oh jesus, go to Andrew Firestone's new restaurant for fucks sake. lesson learned: alcohol + disrespectful, botox injected bitches and talented musicians/music fans, don't mix.

*not all, but most...

song o' the day...'Toxic'...Britney Spears (via tristan prettyman...)