Lindsey is definitely my best friend. The first time I met her I'm pretty sure I told her I was going to steal one of her dogs. The second time I asked her if she wanted to go see Frank Turner with me. After that, BFFF's. She is the reason I know about most of the bands I love. She introduced me to the DIY scene and is the reason I go to so many shows. We have matching tattoos for fuck's sake.
I remember distinctly being at work and getting a text from Lindsey that said, "Hey, I know it's short notice, but do you want to go to Denver in a few days to see Hot Water Music and The Descendents?" I had never seen either band play at that point, so what the fuck was I supposed to say? No? Please. Fast forward a couple of days and Lindsey and myself are packed into her Honda Civic on our way to Colorado (She doesn't fly). The plan was to take turns driving straight there, since we had a place to stay once we arrived, which turned into myself driving 90% of the way. Somewhere in the middle of the night in Utah, I think, we hit a little snow storm, which I was fine with. It looked like driving through hyperspace in Star Wars. But Lindsey freaked out and made us stop and get a hotel room for the night. Which in retrospect was probably a good idea, we didn't have chains or whatever you do in snow and I was busy pretending to be piloting the Millennium Falcon.
Eventually we trudge through the foreign weather and make it to Denver. We end up at a bar called Illegal Pete's because Tim (Elway), Garrett (Red City Radio), and Jay (Nothington) were playing an acoustic show there. Look, here's the deal, the altitude in Denver ain't nothing to fuck with. People kept telling me, watch out for it, you will get way more fucked up. But I was like, "Fuck that, I'm basically a functional alcoholic, air can't do shit to me!" Well, a shot of whiskey and a few beers and I was already drunk. A few more shots and beers and I was blacked out. The bartender was really nice and kept feeding me drink after drink after drink. I only remember 2 things from this night: 1. Tim covered Andrew Jackson Jihad's Brave as a Noun, which I left my drinking post to scream along to. 2. My old friend Melissa, who is from out here in Carlsbad, surprisingly was working at the food counter, and hooked it up with a Denver burrito (resulting in a 3 hour rant about how it had bell peppers on it and I fucking hate bell peppers. I was told about the rant later).
I woke up the next morning on a couch to a stranger smoking a bong in the recliner next to me.
"Hey man, want a rip?"
"What?" I replied, "No. Thanks man. Hey, Am I in Colorado?"
"Yeah, dude. Fuck, you look like shit. You want coffee? I need coffee. Let's go get coffee."
And then he took me to get coffee. We fast became weekend best friends. We were not really sure where anyone was, and were to lazy to even fucking look, so we just decided to nurse our respective hangovers watching Louie. Eventually, we all regrouped and were lazy as team. Finally after watching about 3 movies and taking "naps" (a little obvious guys) we headed out to go to the main event of the weekend. No one had any idea who any of the opening bands were, so we stopped by a liquor store and got some bottom shelf whiskey and some tall cans to drink in the alley near the venue because we are classy as shit. Eventually we went in and watched Hot Water Music who was amazing as always. By the time the Descendents played though, I was feeling sick again, mostly because I stopped drinking because this place was one of those $10 Bud Light places, so I hightailed it to hang out as far away from the crowded center of the venue as I could get, and just sat and watched them. Afterwards we tried to go out to a bar again, but it was too late for me, the redrunk descent had already began and I was done living for the day.
The entire weekend was filled with drinking, debauchery, and I think we tried to play a game of basketball at one point. It being Colorado in January, I don't think it went so well. On our last night, we went to go sing karaoke at a bar and the DJ was this weirdo guy who talked shit on everyone and was on American Idol once. I think I sang Danzig. We were supposed to leave at like 8 or 9 in the morning, but 2 am rolled around and we said fuck it, lets go now. We had had our fill of Colorado.
Pretty sure I drove 90% of the way back.
Lesson learned: Fuck altitude and fuck bell peppers.
No comments:
Post a Comment