Haulin’ Oats

Well I have just about had it with lawyerin’ for a while. I won’t go into it, but a big reason for my burnout of late has to do with this convoluted case where my client, a hot dog vendor, was shut out of a fetish porn convention and wanted me to file a petition for a writ of mandamus on his behalf. This long, exhausting story begins with me trying to explain to the client how writs of mandamus have nothing to do with peddling hot dogs or fetish porn, but you know how clients are. They watch one episode of “The Deep End” and they think they know all about the legal profession and what it’s like to be a physically attractive member of Generation Y.
Anyway, the point is I don’t wanna write about this week, or any week for that matter, in lawyerin’. But since there does seem to be a constituency for blogging about entertainment, especially the guilty pleasure variety, I thought I’d take a crack at writing an entertainment post.
Hall & Oates’ music definitely falls into the category of guilty pleasure entertainment, and it just so happens I went to see them on Saturday at the Long Center. The Long Center is where people go to watch operas and stuff, so we put on our Sund’y-go-to-meetin’ duds for the occasion. As it turned out, though, our experience during the concert made it feel more like we were catching a show at Emo’s…or maybe the bleachers at Wrigley Field.
You see, there was this gaggle of Idiots sitting directly behind us…maybe 6 or 8 of them. I first had the sense it was going to be a long night when one of them loudly observed, as the band took the stage, that John Oates looked like Bobabooey from the Howard Stern Show. Apparently $100 tickets at the Long Center get you seats in the Bobabooey section. Had I known, I would have gladly paid an extra $25 each for an upgrade so that my wife and I could better enjoy the show from the Members Who Make Armpit Farting Noises Only section.
At first, it was just dimwitted banter that registered like white noise static, but then both Hall and Oates kept rudely drowning out their conversations with a bunch of damn music. So the drunkest, most inarticulate Idiot fought back by loudly braying “She’s Gone” – offkey and off-rhythm – during the song of the same name’s chorus. Every time it came up. Never noticed before just how many repeating choruses there were in “She’s Gone”.
When he and his date got too drunk and/or embarrassed to stick around, the others chimed in with a spirited debate about who owed whom a tequila shot. I shit thee not. I’m not filling in what I imagine they were shouting at each other over “Sarah Smile,” 12 other people besides myself heard it loud and clear. Come to think of it, I’m more sure they were discussing whose turn it was to buy tequila shots than I am about Hall & Oates even playing “Sarah Smile.” And that pisses me off, because it’s one of my H&O faves. It was at this point we kindly asked them for the first time to keep it down to a low roar.
At that point several of the Algonquin Shooters decided to continue their repartee outside, presumably near the bar, but they left behind the last two Idiots. Both were Really Annoying Women who, left to their own devices and with nothing else to do besides listen to some band, then had to recap the whole night’s events in that Really Annoying Woman-to-Woman manner of conversation. You know, the kind where they recount the most mundane exchange as if it possessed the same level of drama as the climactic courtroom scene in A Few Good Men [“…and I’m like ‘you owe me a tequila shot?'”…”and she’s like ‘Um, no i don’t?'”…”and then I was all like ‘Um, yah, you do?”…”and she’s all ‘Did you order the Code Red?’ – I know! – and I’m like ‘Whatever. You can’t handle the truth?’…”].
It wouldn’t have been a problem, but they were both using their Really Annoying Women outside voices. That’s when the people next to us spoke up – but this time the Last of the Idiots were told, rather than asked, to in effect, Shut-The-Fuck-Up. It worked, but by then we were 2/3 of the way done with the show. I can, however, tell you the encore numbers really rocked.

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