I absolutely love Wilco, yet I’ve never heard them play. Sad, right? Not to fret my lovelies, they are coming to SLC this summer!
So when a guy I recently met mentioned buying tickets and having us go together I wasn’t exactly sure how to feel. Obviously it would be fun to go with him, but the concert isn’t until mid-August. The concert will, without a doubt, sell out fast. So do I want to risk saying yes and then if we aren’t still hanging out be stuck without a ticket? Hell to the no. I kid you not about my love of Jeff Tweedy. But then I also don’t want to risk offending him, since he seems like a pretty cool guy. Ahhhhh, what to do??
At dinner last night he mentioned his age. This shouldn’t be a big deal, but I thought he was older than he really is. He’s 28, which is a whopping four years younger than me. FOUR WHOLE YEARS! This guy is a kid; he’s in his 20s!! I’m sure he’d mentioned his age, but as you can see by all my editing mistakes on this blog… I suck with small details. With this newfound knowledge my decision is made: I’m buying my own ticket. I can’t risk him outgrowing me before the concert.
And if that’s not enough to make me a bitchy person, I bring you my latest foot in mouth moment…
Yesterday while getting on the elevator, my CUTE! polka dot shoes nearly made me trip. The two men in the elevator looked at me curiously and I said, “Sorry, it seems like I’m having a gimp day.” Neither man said a word to me, and went back to their conversation.
Two floors later the elevator stopped and they stepped out, one walking with a VERY distinct limp. The other man turned and gave me the look of death. Great. Just great. I’ve moved from offending Republicans to the handicapped.