Friday, March 25, 2011


Biff and I were given tickets to go see 'Yes' last night at the Durham Performing Arts Center (DPAC, for short). Is that not spectacularly lucky of us? I submit that it is. We were GIVEN tickets to a show we might actually enjoy!. Folks, tickets started at $35 for the nosebleed seats, so we saved at least 70 bucks.

Which we then pretty much then turned around and spent on giant beers. At 10 bucks a pop you can swallow a whole lot of simoleans in a hurry.

Being an experienced concert-goer (like, I've totally been to one before!) I thought it would be super-smart to visit the ladies' room before heading into the show for maximum listening time prior to the onset of beer recycling. Even smarter of me was to take the very FIRST stall because nobody ever uses the very first stall, right? It should be clean and free of germs and stuff! Smart, See?

Also smart was the courtesy flush I performed to mask certain noises I really didn't even want a group of strangers to hear, because I'm very conscientious about the public bodily noises. Nobody wants to listen to someone else doing 'that,' if you know what I mean (by which I mean flatulate, and there I said it).

Courtesy flush is almost always a good idea. Not so much last night, as it appears I picked a rogue toilet. One push of the little black button and HOLY CRAP! The nice clean toilet in the very first stall of the ladies bathroom on the third floor of DPAC shot a gallon of water OUT of the bowl, directly onto my back.

Yes, at 'Yes' I got toilet-geysered. Somewhere that's a security camera with footage of a chubby middle-aged half-neekid white chick getting hosed, quite literally, by a commode with a vendetta and LEAPING off the seat in a vain attempt to not get any wetter.

The leaping, my friends, was a bust. The damage had totally been done. And of course I was wearing clothes that blatantly showed off that I was soaked from the neck down. Cotton will do that. Nice green cotton, light green in the front, deep-woods green in the back. Also? Dripping. From shirt, pants, HAIR, dripping. Oy.

Let it be said right now that I am glad that I discovered this little plumbing peculiarity on the courtesy flush, and not after any real use had been undertaken. Because, wow, that would have been a short concert. Being blasted by crapper-cannon is only bearable if the water is clean; under any other circumstances we would have, rather understandably, might I add, been heading right back home.

As it was, I borrowed a handful of paper towels from the concessions boof, asked Biff to help me mop up the worst of the damage, and then waited until most folks were in the theater before hiking up, up, up to our seats, whereupon I pressed my soaked back and netherbits into the plush chair, hoping the foam would sponge up overflow, and proceeded to get my groove on.

Because, seriously, we were there for the groove-getting, and a little surprise douchery wasn't going to hinder that, ya know?

This is the point at which I say I'm glad I'm not one of those women who have fancy architectural hairstyles (not that there's anything wrong with that) or super-nice dry-clean-only clothes (or that) or no sense of humor (there IS something wrong with that), because last night was an evening that could have gone very differently indeed. As it was, all's I could do is laugh and be grateful I wasn't rocketing anything up my shirt other than regular ol' cold water.

Silver lining, y'all. Sometimes you have to look hard for one, but it's always there. Amirite? Of course I am. Everybody has those moments - if you'd care to share in the comments, please do. We would all love to roll around in your misery for a while. It smells like cookies and bacon from here.

Which reminds me - someone brought Kielbasa into the theater last night. Unmistakably kielbasa. There was no kielbasa on sale at the DPAC. Where did the kielbasa come from, why did it smell so good, and why was someone bringing it into the theater? Why kielbasa at all? Is it someone's pre-Yes concert go-to food? Why is Yes associated with kielbasa then, when I think pretty much all of them are vegans? Is that some cruel/ironic twist that a sick sociopath is playing on the artists? WHY KIELBASA? WHY?

And now I have to go to work - y'all help with that kielbasa thing, then have a great day, mmk?

Tiff out.

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