Lindsay and I like rock. We rock out all the time -- you should see it, it's really quite the thing. Huh? Yeah, I don't really know what that was supposed to mean, either.

So we like rock music, and we're big fans of the White Stripes. Big fat garage rock, beautifully made by 2 people that manage to sound like there's 4 or 5 people. Yum. They're easily one of our favorite rock bands. Naturally, we were stoked when we found out they were stopping in St. Paul on tour. The show was last Thursday, July 3 at Roy Wilkins auditorium.

We went. We were there. The White Stripes were on fire! Song after song after song. All of it good. Really fucking good. Songs melting into one another, keyboards added in instead of guitars in spots, the attitude, the sparks, yeah, it was all there. The concert was tremendous. Energy energy energy. Good good stuff.

Lindsay? Not a fan of standing up at concerts, hates being in G.A. (general admission) at shows. She's short, so she doesn't get to see anything, plus it gets crowded and it really sucks to have to stand in one spot for 2 hours. I feel that. For this show, the entire lower level (main floor) was G.A., so I picked up balcony seats for Lindsay and I. Yeah, I know -- I rock. Kinda.

Our seats had the potential to rock... to fucking rock. Hard. Second row, dead center. Yum. Beautiful stage view. The only way the seats could have been better would be, obviously, if they were front row seats. So there's a row in front of us. No biggy. It's the White Stripes -- people will be cool with people, right? Yeah, we thought so, too. Were people being cool and considerate to one another? I don't know about the whole arena, but in our little area? Yeah, not so much, damn it.

Once the show started, the entire front row was sitting down, all across the arena balcony. That's nice -- and respectful! But Hey! Look! The people directly in front of us, obviously all hopped up on goofballs and X and whatever the fuck else are high out of their minds and dancing and humping the railing and basically just standing up and blocking everyone's view. Yay! Right in front of us! Hey! We paid for seats cause we want to sit and enjoy the show, assclowns! Guess what? These 2 fuckwads in front of us -- they aren't gonna sit down! People behind us were yelling at DanceMan #1 and #2 to "Sit the fuck down, asshole!" and "Hey! Tell that asshole to sit down!". Yes yes. Good times. Good good times.

I'd like to sum this up quickly. We had the only bad 2nd row balcony seats in the entire arena -- and they should have been amazing seats -- 2nd row, dead center! Okay. Just wanted to clarify.

So, a couple songs into the White Stripes set, DanceMan#2 was gone, doing more drugs or something (he was only there for about 2/3 of the show), and since I'm a fairly big (tall) guy and can be nice, I took it upon myself to ask the drugged up asswad DanceMan #1 to please sit down. "Hey man, I hate to be a drag, but you're in a lot of people's way. Could you sit so you're not blocking all these people's view?" His response? "You're asking me to sit down?!" Yes, he was incredulous. He continued, "Sit down?!? Woah. I don't know if I can, man!" "Well, yeah. I'd like you to sit down, please. If you wanna dance, hump the railing, whatever, hey, that's cool. Just do it in the aisle or in (here's a thought!) G.A. You know, somewhere where people can still see the show." "I dunno, mayan." He looked really worried, then he looked me in the eyes and pleaded "I gotta dance, man!"

Yes, sitting down would cause this man actual physical pain.

Needless to say the "sitting down" lasted all of one song. DanceMan #2 came back and DanceMan #1 was telling him all about the NERVE of that dude behind him that asked him to SIT DOWN and all this shit. So DanceMan #2 started giving me dirty looks and stood up and "danced". Not really along to the music, either, mind you. Just flopping around and humping of the rail, mostly. Very badly. He was the railing humpiest motherfucker ever. DanceMan #1 was bustin a groove, too. Then there were these 2 teenage girls that didn't even have front row tickets, but had snuck in, were kicked out by the actual ticket holders and were somehow allowed to stand in the aisle right in front of us, too (the beauty of seats 1 and 2!) and dance their stupid asses off, too. No ushers to kick them out, nothing.

I was fuming.

I hate having to be "the man". Especially if no one else is doing fucking shit. I don't want to be the square-ass nerd that says things like "Um, excuse me. You're breaking rules!" So I didn't say anything more, even though every time Danceman #2, the one right in front of me, got up to go do more drugs or whatever, the Kelly Osbourne clone would go stand in front of his seat, right in front and in my fucking way and dance her stupid ass off cause the aisle stairs were crowded with dancing motherfuckers. Hey, I don't mind if you're in the aisle, just don't stand there -- right in front of me! It was so fucking rude!

So, basically, kickass concert, kickass seats, but we didn't ever actually get to enjoy the view. I mean, maybe for one song. I was pissed and I let it ruin the show for me (at the time). I mean, I paid for these seats so that we could actually see the band from here! *sigh*

The bottom line for me is that I'm getting more and more tired of inconsiderate assholes... and less patient with them. There seems to be a surplus of inconsiderate assholes up here lately, too. It's gotta my biggest pet peeve about living here. That and the horrible drivers up here, but I think the 2 are inter-related.

Also, I've got other stories to tell, people. Bunches of other little stories. Think I'm gonna try to write more often for now. Maybe weekly again! Yay! Be sure to stay tuned!
-Eric