I was 16? Not that long ago. I got invited to go to a concert in SLC. It was one of those weird mormon hangouts where you show up, and you're pretty sure you just got invited so the people who invited you could go on a date without calling it a 'date'.
Anyway, I third wheeled it out for the entire night.
We had time to kill before the concert, so we went to this big old warehouse that was apparently an antique shop. Like, a real antique shop that I romanticized so hard at the time.
Old stuff was just thrown on top of each other, and you'd have to crawl through chairs, climb over wardrobes, and maneuver your way around miscellaneous things. The couple I went with weren't too excited about getting dusty and didn't really explore the place like I did, but I managed to find lots of cool things.
They also had a floor of just chairs (top left picture). It was almost too creepy being in there at times. The chairs went on forever, and there was only one small path that went through them to the other side of the room.
The actual concert felt really insignificant compared to the antique shop. The people I went with ran into some friends; they were a bunch of kids who went to the local art high school. Very hip. Very trendy. Dyed hair, cut off high-waisted shorts, red lipstick, bags under their eyes. I tried to be friendly, especially since I knew they already had their own art shows and galleries, but they'd just blow cigarette smoke in my face and talk about how overrated the band was. All I could thing was, "Why would you go to a concert if you're just going to talk about how stupid it is?" even though I knew why.
High school though, man.
That night is the night that made me stop feeling like I missed out by not going to said art high school.
I'm pretty sure this is that band we saw that night.
No comments:
Post a Comment