Yes, those are X's on my hands. Apparently the lady in line thought I said I was under 19. I ACTUALLY said that I probably wouldn't be drinking tonight. She grabbed her permanent marker and made the decision for me.
Straight edge for life, yo.
(Do kids say "yo" anymore? Did I just prove that I'm old by saying "kids"?)
It's flattering, having someone assume I'm 18. Because recently someone else asked me if I'd ever been married. Meaning I look like a divorcee?! Sigh.
You should also note that I brought out the plaid shirt. Just for Mr. Gosling. In return, he wore a three-piece suit. Have you ever heard girls scream because someone took off his suit jacket? I have.
I was wedged at the front between two strangers. On my left, the girl texted her friend: "This show is f@#$ed." On my right, the girl whispered, "Could there be a more beautiful man?" It was appropriate that I stood in the middle. Because I didn't find it insane, nor did I have any intentions of drooling. Although these particular well-suited musicians were quite attractive. Not gonna lie.
I'll post pictures soon. The show was sort of like Nuit Blanche packed into two hours on a single stage. A ghost sang "Like a Virgin." A guy bent a spoon with his mind. A woman jump-roped with a poodle. And a choir of child-sized ghosts sang backup.
And it sort of all made sense. Even when they shot a little girl, who then resurrected in silhouette, singing Nancy Sinatra's "Bang Bang" while Gosling whispered the lyrics in her ear.
Maybe you had to be there.
Sometimes it's inspiring to experience something so completely new and unusual. Something you can't box in or define. It was a collaborative, interactive, slightly rough-around-the-edges performance, with no room for big stars and egos. If the women didn't squeal, you'd have no idea that Gosling was an anybody.
P.S. His band mate is actually prettier than he is. But less accomplished musically. And less interesting. I can't explain it, but I'm not very intrigued by walking Ken dolls.
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