Promises, Promises (Part 2)

So…we have seen that I am somewhat disappointed that I have discovered I am “too old” for things I used to enjoy.

What about the rest of this crazy story???

Well, we arrived and discovered that we had landed in a world where beers were $15 and mere bottled water was $7. I looked around to see if anyone was being arrested for these atrocities but they were not.

We made our way up the hill with our million dollar food and rented lawn chairs in search of a good spot. The lawn at an amphitheater, for the uninitiated, is just that – grass on a slope. We landed close to the top of the lawn, middle of the stage with good sight lines. It was not terribly hot if the breeze blew, but of course this is Texas so the humidity was on up there. The kids were excited, and I thought this is not bad.  That was, until the breeze shifted.IMG_2941

Look, I don’t care if you want to smoke. I used to smoke…I don’t care for the smell but if we are outside, feel free to do you. Pot is a whole other animal. First off, unlike cigarettes that shit is ILLEGAL. The fact that there were police and security around and no one blinked pissed me off. I know they could smell it. Hell, my sense of smell is all kinds of messed up but even I smelled it. Coupled with high humidity, it was like a being in a bowl with the lid on. The breeze, when it blew, was just not strong enough to blow it out of the venue.

Then the music started. By that time, my daughter and I had horrible headaches. She had taken to sniffing her fruity hand sanitizer so as to counteract the weed.

Everyone is singing along, and she and I were discussing how much of an impact the lack of Boyd Tinsley would be on the show when we noticed that her brother was not acting right. He was working on his second tall beer and had barely eaten anything, plus his older brother had managed to bum them some cigarettes so I’m sure all of that was hitting him at once. We think he threw up some in there but it was already dark and we weren’t exactly going to dig around the yard for proof.

Then he started trying to make himself puke. Ok, not a fan of that. We tried to get him to stop and go to the restroom but how do you negotiate something like that with someone who is drunk? You don’t. All I could think about was the poor folks down the hill in front of us…and we all know that shit runs downhill…

One of the frat boys in front of us got up to get something and noticed he was nearly passed out. Now, I’m going to stop you right there – this is a concert. It is loud. It is dark. We are already not feeling good due to the air in there, and I couldn’t always see what those boys are doing where they were sitting. Oh and again, they are also adults. My oldest was taking care of his brother as best he could, even going and buying him some of that $7 water. There were girls offering him crackers too so he was being tended to but was again, TOO DRUNK TO FUNCTION.  Frat boy went to fetch the EMTs.

EMTs show up and upon realizing he has thrown up, proceed to tell us to get up, leave our lawn chairs there and follow them. Walk of effin’ shame. (thanks Jimmy Fallon for that one) We walk out as the final song is being played and right before the encore. At the bottom of the hill, they have a wheelchair waiting for him and take him straight to the med area. That’s where they officially tell me you are done with this concert, here are the numbers to cab companies and buh-bye. Wow…I am both concerned and pissed. I told them how much trouble it was to get a cab to get there, and one of the medics told me that, if he pukes in an Uber, it’s automatically a $300 charge. GREATTTTTTTT.

My oldest calls us a cab, and we wait. They give Pukey Lukey some Gatorade and show us out the door. That’s how we ended up on South Fitzhugh with 10,000 of our closest friends trying desperately to find that damn cab we called. We watched him drive by and then drive off…so now we are stuck in south Dallas. Uber it is. Not that he remembers, but I told him that if he puked in the car I was going to take that $300 out of his grown ass.

We had to take turns holding him up, or sitting him down. At one point, his brother wrapped his arms around a street sign and leaned him against it to help him stand. Seriously. IMG_3019

While we waited, we were treated to gunshots from the neighborhood just across the street. Cops were not fazed and said, “Man, that’s just south Dallas”.  We were also amazed by the number of women who were perfectly willing to tend to my son – someone who had obviously puked all over himself –  guess that is a perk of being good-looking that they are willing to overlook things like that and take turns holding you up and patting your head. Wish I had a picture of that one…her husband was not very happy with her!

FINALLY, at 11:30, our Uber was able to make it to us. Not only was this concert going on, but in another part of Fair Park was something to do with the Byron Nelson tournament. Traffic was a nightmare. We put Pukey Lukey in the front seat, told the driver that he got too hot and needed a/c on him, and we got in the back and prayed that we could make it back to the hotel without him getting sick.

As we drove through Deep Ellum on the way back to our hotel, we noticed the police had blocked off a street. Our driver noted that they must have found a body. NBD. Then we witnessed some random guy slap a couple’s food from their hands as they crossed the street, minding their own business. WTF is going on here??? Made it to the hotel by midnight and with no puke (YAY!), but for some reason the same trip back cost $33 instead of the $7 ride there. Ohhhkayyy…at least we made it back in one piece.

Turned on the TV in our room only to discover that the police had blocked that street due to a DRIVE BY SHOOTING that had occurred minutes before. Yep, time to go home.



1 thought on “Promises, Promises (Part 2)”

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