Last night, just as I was walking up the last flight of stairs for my math class, I received a test message from Summer asking if I wanted to play hooky and go the the Jason Mraz concert with her.
I should add that Summer, too, was supposed to be in math class. I should also add that I don’t even listen to Mraz. I only know who he is because one of his song titles has the word pink in it. See, random Google searches for containing the words “pink” and “song” are beneficial!
When she mentioned the tickets were in a suite that would likely be catered I turned around and walked back to my car, leaving my education behind. FOR MUSIC I DON’T EVEN LIKE! No wonder I’m still working on my bachelor’s degree at 32.
When I fail college algebra I only have myself to blame. Well, and Kelli, because she wouldn’t fly out here twice a week and take the damn class for me. What a bitch that girl is.
The best part of the night was not the concert—we left after two songs—but seeing this on the door of the E-Center:
(Insert high pitch squeals here.)