Bring on the Dancing Arses!

First, allow me to apologize for a lack of pictures because most of them were either too dark or blurry and it's not because I was tipsy either!

The night began early with a couple of Raging Bitches (that's the beer not us) and after some dallying on Kirby's part, we arrived downtown around 7:00. The doors had just opened and there was no line so I knew it would be a light crowd. Awesome. As we head down East 4th on our way to Flannery's, walking towards us (or Euclid Avenue) is a motley group of three rather British looking blokes. The two on the outside are tall and thin with bedhead, pencil leg jeans and pointy shoes. The one in the middle is short and stout with a big nose and a blunt hair cut. I announce to the group that the gnome is none other than Will Sargeant. Kirby says, "Oh, they were looking at us". Of course they were. Will knows me.

As we enter Flannery's (specifically after 7:00 to avoid the Cavs crowd), we see Bob at the bar and notice that the Cavs game is on. As the play moves to the basket area we see "BULLS" emblazoned on the court. Glad we avoided that crowd. Flannery's is without much excitement (other than Kirby scaring the bartender - seriously chick, grow a backbone) so we head to HOB around 8:15. The bastards don't card me! The one time I bring my ID and the bastards don't card me. Stacey flirts with a guy and his wand and we enter.

We head upstairs to the bar and get in line. In front of us is this chick. Stacey and I discuss whether or not there is some female code that requires us to put her tag back in, we feel that there is but then decide not to abide by it because it's funnier this way. As we take our drinks, we notice the opening band is on. It's some annoyingly pretentious dude from NYC (are there any other kind?) whose name I can't remember and have no urge to look up. I can say that he was bald and at some point wrote a song when he was living in Detroit and I yelled out "Let's go Wings"! Hey, it is the playoffs bitches.

As his set is winding down or over, Christine and Tom show up (Tom is wearing a hoodie and this is important so remember it) I head to the bar to get Patron to cheer Kirby up (he hates opening acts) and I end up talking to some guy about hockey. Don't ask me how we got to hockey because we started out talking about how shiny the opening act dude's head was and this led to a discussion on the merits of hats. In any event, he became a Calgary Flames fan after visiting a bar in Calgary devoted to all things hockey and all things Flames. He heard me yell "Let's go Wings". He was a nice guy and we said our good byes.

After depositing the drink, I head to the floor to find Bob and his friend. As I work my way through the crowd, I see Fat Abby and by Fat Abby I mean an obese version of Abby, the forensics chick from NCIS. It's not pretty. I find Bob and pass on by. There is boredom and then the lights go low Joe (well, it is the Bunnies) and we hear Gregorian chants. There is dancing (Mac is dancing a lot tonight as well) and singing and smoking if you are Mac because apparently it's okay if he smokes in HOB but nobody else. There is also some strange nose picking going behind the drums (I'd so hate to be that guy's roadie). The set contains all the classics and one new song, Whatever You Want or whatever because no one really cares. Do It Clean, The Cutter, Killing Moon (sounds awesome), etc. I tell Tom he should shout something to piss off Mac because to this point, there has been no tiff with any member of the audience. This can't continue. He asks me what he should say and I say "request a song he has refused to ever play again...request All My Colours" and then I head to the bar. As I stand there I hear the melancholy notes that are the hallmark of All My Colours. I laugh and say "Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo".
Then as if by magic, we arrive at that point in time when "it" happens. Someone shows Mac something he has seen before and he tells whomever is showing him their whatevers that not only is he not impressed, but that those are quite possibly some of the worst whatevers he has ever seen. Yes, Mac is still the prat we know and adore. In between all the awesome songs there is Bring on the Dancing Horsemen and of course, Lips Like Drippy Poppy Sugar. They work "Walk on the Wild Side" into the encore. Sweet.

As we get ready to leave, we are instructed by Christine that we must leave together because they don't know how to get back into the BP garage across the street. It is tricky but we wait nonetheless. As we work our way towards the exit, Christine and Tom stop by the bathrooms. A portion of these activities escape Stacey and she approaches some tall thin guy in a hoodie and hugs him goodbye. Kirby and I look on in amazement as does the "hug-ie". Stacey then realizes it's not Tom as Tom has just shown up. As we leave, she then attempts to get re-scanned by the HOB security dude with the wand. She's 0 and 2 at this point but it's not her fault. The fail is all on the guys tonight.

Once on the street, I see Fat Abby and there is some good light. I stand behind this big guy selling roses on the street and ask him if I can use him as cover. "All I want is a shot at Fat Abby" I tells him but he freaks out like he's a'scared of me or something? Like I am going to shoot him or her or something. By then everyone is calling to me as if I lost my way. Would you sympathize? Could you sympathize? (Third lyric placement) So, I have no Fat Abby picture for you and then we listened to Duran Duran on the way home (Planet Earth of course because it is the only good Duran Duran).