I would so completely with all of my being be “that guy” if I happened to be a dude and my friends and I were the of variety that liked strip clubs. I’d be the one swearing on the cross that Brandi or Mandi or Alexa or Amber or Tammi or Trina or Whateverhernameis isn’t just doing her job up there (you know, shaking her bazoomies in my face and taking my money) and I’d argue ad nauseum that I’m leaving with her number and banging her till high noon.
How do I know this? Well let me tell you…
Last night my cousin and I saw American Idiot (btw, omg!) on Broadway and I found myself doing something I do at every show I attend, regardless of the seating… I stare up at the hottest, most talented guy on stage and swear to the sweet Lord above that he sees me, loves me back, is signing just for me and is not gay. I have been doing this for years and it never works.
At one particularly “subdued” moment of the show, I found myself staring at one the young gents on stage and laughing at myself. It was my “ah ha!” moment where the pattern of my own insanity became clear and I thought to myself “Who does this? Who stares at a stage and swears that the guy who is playing that friend who goes off and becomes a soldier and is then wounded and loses his leg and then flies all around the stage on cables and then ends the show dancing around like nothing happened to him during the war wants to get her number and is looking right at her?” And then it dawned on me and I felt small.
PS: I had my doubts but it was amazing. There is no intermission and the show is frantic so pee all your pee out before the show starts or risk a UTI because you won’t be able to leave your seat for something as stupid as peeing.
PPS: St. Jimmy (some of you will see humor in that name -- sorry mama, but I couldn’t help it) was played by Billie Joe Armstrong!
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