Frrrrroopy droopy doopy doo. (doo)
Guys I have the most humiliating story in the entire world to tell you.
You’re going to disown me. I would disown me, too. I already did.
So last week, my girl Ashlee slides into my dm (just kidding) sends me a message via Facebook messenger. It’s sort of late at night (like 8:10pm) and I’m on my phone on the sofa. There are no words in her message. It’s just a link to an event. A concert. Wait, A FLEETWOOD MAC CONCERT. Here! In Kansas City! And omg, and it’s the 50th anniversary of Rumors, are you kidding, my favorite album of all time! WE HAVE TO GO. So I respond, “omg, are you going?”
She replies, “I could be convinced.”
I could be convinced? IT IS F.L.E.E.T.W.O.O.D. M.A.C., son.
So I say, “It would be incredible.” And then I’m off to bed because it was already 8:22pm by this point and these cells ain’t gonna turn themselves over!
Next morning I get up to look at tickets on my laptop, and I’m absolutely SHOCKED that a) there still are tickets available, and b) they’re this insanely well priced. $45 per person WITH TAX in the MIDDLE of the theater to see effing Stevie? This is insane. Blood pumping through my whole body, I purchase three without a thought. Click click done. And I’m SO EXCITED. Like, running around the house, shaking Aaron in the bed sheets, jumping up and down in my unwashed running gear, “We’re gonna see Fleetwood MAAAAC! We’re gonna see Fleetwood MAAAAC!”
And I text Ash, “Got us three tickets! They were the last available in that section and I had to buy three. We’ll figure out the third person. Aaron’s already expressing interest, DUH. I’m so excited!!!!”
Ashlee texts back, “You’re the only person in the world I’d ever want to see a Fleetwood Mac cover band with.”
. . .
. . . . . . . . . . .
W H A T.
I’M SORRY . . . . COME AGAIN? COVER BAND?
My back immediately transforms into a clammy sauna and slides off my body in panic and shock and mortification. How could I miss this. How did I not see this. I’m a detail person. What alien is living inside me to allow this blunder of epic proportions to happen.
So I go back to the event flyer that she sent me, and sure e-%$%^ing-nough, it says “RUMORS OF FLEETWOOD MAC” – a tribute to their whatever whatever dying inside no reason to live blah blah.
I do realize this is my fault. I didn’t catch the TINY font saying “tribute”, nor did I put together the whole “OF” thing. It happened. I got too excited about Stevie and Christine and all workings of the cerebrum went on break/slash quit forever. However, I feel like the flyer artist could have made the information a bit more clear. Maybe make the word “tribute” THE BIGGEST WORD? Shame on them. (shifting blame is okay here, zip it.)
So I know you’re like, “Well are you going? Did you keep the tickets?”
NO, ARE YOU COMPLETELY INSANE?
I told Ashlee, “One goes to a WEDDING to see a Fleetwood Mac cover band. One does not pay ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY FOUR AMERICAN DOLLARS to see a Fleetwood Mac cover band.”
(you can laugh, it’s fine)
So listen to this, Ash is like, “Just call the box office and explain, they’ll refund you. They might laugh at you, but it should be no problem.”
I call. The dude is super nice and yes, he does utter a flickering of a chuckle at my expense. I get it. But alas, he cannot refund me. “It’s advertised as a tribute band, there’s nothing I can do.” LISTEN, THAD, Y’AWNT MY FIST IN YOUR FACE? just kidding I didn’t say that.
Long story long, I had to get a freaking app which was supposed to allow me to sell the tickets. Of course the sell button wasn’t ON THERE because this is my life, so I was again at a dead end. He gave me the number to AXS or ACL or WTF or something. I call, explain the story (I was charming and animated in my tellings, I will say), and the older man gave a good giggle and said, “Ma’am, I appreciate the story, oh, I do – but I’m not the right person to talk to.” SON OF A BI…
He gives me another number, I call it. Talked to a lovely spirited soul named Meeker, and she was theee nicest. Tee-heed the entire time I was telling her my tale of woe (I had it down by now) and then goes, “Honey when did ya order these tickets? Gimme ya confirmation numba. Let’s start theya.” A few seconds pass, “Oh honey, you bought these just this mawnin! I can refund ya now, baby.”
YOU CAN? YOU REALLY CAN, MEEKER, MY ANGEL OF MIRACLES?
“Yes, hon, the theater has a rule that if ya change ya mind within 24 hours of purchasin’ tickets, they’ll refund ya. Had ya waiting until tomorrah, they’d be nuttin’ I can do, baby. Good thing ya jumped on it!”
MEEKER IS NOW IN MY WILL. Did I spell your name right, Meeker?
Moral of the story, read the fine print or whatever.
Also, my dear Ash, sorry if I offended you and didn’t want to see FAKE STEVIE. I still love you.
Have you ever watched your intestines digest your food?
You’re like, “yeah this just took a turn.”
Guys, I can lie on my back and watch my upper intestine roll around like a mole under my skin. It’s INSANE. Reminds me of being pregnant, although instead of humans it’s a chicken taco.
It’s wild! Do you do this? Just lie down after you eat, like a few hours later and see if you can feel it doing the wave like at a sports even. Uuuup and back down. Uuuup and back down. So bizarre.
Probably should have kept all this to myself.
Okay, have you seen Renée Zellweger as JUDY GARLAND? Watch this and tell me that’s not seriously dern good. I’m impressed! She’s got the squint right, the pursed lips just right, that slight twitch in her shoulders just like Judy had in her older, pill-poppin’ years. I can’t WAIT to see it.
Aaaand then I saw Tom Hanks as Fred Rogers and my head exploded. He’s perfect! The gentleness in his eyes and that unmistakable soft punctuation in his vocal timbre – it’s exactly like Fred. Exactly!
Which brings me to this:
Who would win in a fight (yes this is all I think about) – Renée as Judy against Tom as Fred.
I mean it’s obvious, right?! Who would win?
I don’t even say it. You can for me.
The fight winner. Who?
Because we all know. Right? So obvious.
Who is it?
The high is only 78 today! Which is technically the perfect temperature according to me and life.
My goal is to finish The Cactus, but my sister-in-law visits tomorrow through Monday, so tonight’s really my only window. And you’re bored.
Oh! Speaking of, on the book front – we decided to read MRS. EVERYTHAAANG (just kidding it’s Everything) for my in-person book club meetup at Golden & Pine on September 12th! I’ll have the official details for you soon, but I’m telling you now (KAYANSAS CEETEE) so that you have enough time to get it and read it, yo.
Also, on the music front – I got your jaaaamz for the weekend.
And on the plant front – I think I landed on a giant cactus for the huge $5 thrifted pot. Want to help me pick it out this weekend?
You’re still laughing at me, aren’t you.