||[Apr. 2nd, 2005|11:52 pm]
Yesterday was the BANE/COMEBACK KID/WITH HONOR/gay opening acts show, and I FUCKING WENT TO THAT SHIT AND IT WAS DOPE AS FUCK.
I drove from RDG to Sacramento to meet up with Andrew (who had just woken up whenI got there, around 3:30-4:00pm, slacker), we both changed, cleaned my car out because he lives in a fucking GHETTO ASS apartment complex by the university, and I wasn't about to have my shit get stolen. Anyway, we hop in his car and head to SF in the gayest traffic possible. Everyone was getting off work and shit so traffic was stop-go-stop-go for like an hour. It pretty much took us 2 hours to get to SF, when it should've taken less than an hour.
So we get there, take the RIGHT exit, but then it somehow forks off into two other exits, and we obviously took the wrong one because we got all turned around and were in downtown SF where everything's all nasty looking and run-down. So we pull over at some crust McDonalds, pee real quick, and luckily there was a chill cop parked right next to us cleaning his windshield, so we ask him directions, and we talk for like 10 minutes about music because I guess when he was younger he went to shows (sweet!), he gives us directions, and we're on our way.
Problem is... He forgets to tell us it's a three-way exit we have to take, and we're supposed to take the middle one, and we end up taking th one on the right. So we drive FOR-FUCKING-EVER around and end up going through Broadway (where all of the crazy ass porn shops and strip clubs are), and fucking CHINATOWN. If you've ever been to SF, then you know what I'm talking about. Sketchy ass crusty asian people straing you down like they're going to murder you... Yeah, it ws nuts, so we got out of there REAL fast. We drive a long way, trying to look for streets that look familiar on the map, but we fail to recognize anything, so we end up somewhere near Vermont and like 7th street or some shit, which is the only areas of SF we know because Slim's and Bottom of the Hill and The Parkside are all around that vicinity. Then somehow Andrew gets the bright idea that The Pound is near Pier 29. Okay now... There's no such pier in SF with the number 29 on it. So finally, we're at a dead end on Hyde, Andrew whips out his cell phone, calls his friend Mark(?) back east, tells him to jump on mapquest to get us directions from Hyde to Cargo. Simple, right? No... OF COURSE NOT. Neither of us had a pen, so I had to run into this nautical gift-shop (which I wish I would've bought something from because tht place had some awesome shit), and ask to borrow a pen and have some paper.
Finally, we get directions from Hyde to Cargo. Low and behold, we get lost again. We turned right onto Evans, but after a mile or so we thought it was sketchy and didn't look right, so we did a U-turn back down Evans... That way wasn't right either, it took us back to 3rd. So we turn around again, but keep going until finally... We see Jennings on the left. I could've made love to that fucking street sign. So we make it to The Pound (which, by the way, is the SHITTIEST fucking venue ever. It's a really big garage basically), but the story doesn't end there, oh no...
We didn't buy tickets in advance, so we still faced the chance of the show being sold out. So we stand in line for what seems to be an eternity, and the front door dude was pretty awesome. See, they can only let kids in that are buying tickets at the door, if so many that already pre-paid haven't showed up. It's this whole fire code issue that I would go into detail about, but it's boring, so I will spare you. Anyway, the doorman was like "Why aren't you guys yelling at these kids showing up late? They're the one's keeping you out here." So after about 2 people walk in every 5-8 minutes, I'm starting to get pissed because god damnit, I didn't drive all that way to get there and be denied because the fucking show sold out. FUCK THAT. So I start yelling at the kids walking in late, and the doorman was like "YEAH!! RIGHT ON!!" And about 5 minutes later, he lets us in all because I started getting an attitude. I fucking rule. We missed the first two bands, but who cares? Life Long Tragedy are good and all, but I wasn't going to the show to see THEM. So I could care less either way. Silent Drive suck, fuck them anyway.
So, you can pretty much figure out the rest of the story from there. We see the 3 bands we wanted to see. A typical hour and a half drive to SF from Sacramento took us 4 hours, but all-in-all, it was worth it. The best part of it all was neither of us really cared about being lost. It was fun, it was sort of an adventure. The whole way there Andrew and I just chilled, and reminisced about the old days when we all lived together. I love that kid. I'm glad he's my bro. On the other hand, his girlfriend is annoying, but that's a whole other entry.
Anyway, after the show, we drive back to Andrew/John's apartment, and we all stay up until 4am catching up, cracking jokes, and thinking about how awesome the old days were. I miss them, I wish they didn't move. After this though, I know we'll all be seeing a lot more of eachother. They're my bro's, we all love eachother, nothing is ever going to break that bond.
Tonight was rad too. I hung out with Kelly and watched him and his band practice. I'm not into their music, but it was fun. I FINALLY LEARNED HOW TO TWO-STEP (score)! One day he and I will hook up. If Carlos wasn't there, it would've went down.
Agenda for Sunday : Sin City at 12. Perhaps followed by a drive to Vacaville? Who knows.
I can't believe dudes jock me.