Fall Out Girl

In between bands I was left alone to slurp down my vodka tonic while my friends went outside for a nicotine fix. My mother called so I answered to drunkenly explain how I was the hottest girl in the joint. Three rows ahead of me two little girls kept turning around and looking at me while I rambled on about what designers I had chosen for the night. The girls whispered to their mother and then she turned around and motioned for me to come over.

My throat went dry. What the hell does she want? I stumbled my way over the best I could drunk and in 5 inch stilettos.

"Are you a celebrity?"

"Pardon?"

"Well, we saw you sitting over there with two body guards in a private box and well - we assumed you were a celebrity. We were just wondering who you were and maybe if we could get an autograph."

I was flattered. And yes she indirectly complimented Billy and Dean for looking like angry meat head body guards.

"Urrm. No. Sorry, I'm just a regular person."

She had an incredulous look on her face.

"Oh."

One of her daughters turned to me.

"You look famous."

I laughed.

"Why thank you, so do you."

She got a big grin on her face and giggled. I smiled and stumbled back to slurp some more vodka.

By the end of my evening and after quite a few vodka/tonics I managed to piss off the group of scary marys in front of me, dance like all the other 13 year-olds around me (screaming and gasping included) , and send hate e-mails to my stalker. All and all it was a wonderful time. I will never go to a pop-punk show ever again.

Well - only if you're buying the drinks.