Gay Fright

My father follows a daily schedule. One of the names on the schedule for today is a woman named Gay Fright. I wish I was joking, but it's effing true. (I won't lie, I sorta love it.)

Guess what happened yesterday? I went to a concert. Ricardo Arjona, no less. YOU KNOW HIM? I DOOOO. He waved at me... actually, he waved at the whole audience, but it's the same thing, practically.

It was at the Hot Water Hotel/Casino. THAT PLACE IS NIIICE. Until you walk into the casino. I find it quite interesting that casinos always seem to be the places where all the smokers hang out. Like, "Hey wanna go bowling?" Smoker: "NAH MAN, I can't smoke at the bowling alley! I needta smoke!" OTHER DUDE: "Wanna go to Disneyland?" "Nah man, I can't smoke in Disneyland! That's racist!" "OK, wanna go sailing?" "I CAN'T GO SAILING, ARE CHOO KIDDING ME? I CAN'T SMOKE AND SAIL AT THE SAME TIME!"

"FINE. Wanna go to the casino?"
"YOU BET YOUR SWEET ASS I DO."

They just seem to stick all the smokers in casinos and it's weird and it sickens me and I would hate to work there because I'd get secondhand lungs. I like my lungs to be brand new and unused, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

Regardless, I went to the Hot Water Casino, endured the unbearable smoooerkleklkue of dooom, walked around a lot, entered a cafe where the family was - it seriously was like a family affair, freaking everyone I know was there - ordered strawberry smoothie thang and walked around some more around all the lame, stupid gamblers.

Concert time? Yeah. We tried to commandeer a box and were kicked out for all our troubles. Actually, they just directed us towards our real seats but it's the same thing. There was a neato set up on stage in semi-dark chocolate darknessl; meanwhile, the likes of Frank Caliendo told us, across giant screens, to turn off our phones or Robert De Niro might turn up and repeat stuff to us.

Eventually the show began and I was pleased, but also not. It was great, yes, but I wish he would've played some of his older stuff. It was mostly his newer music, which is lovely and all, but I wanted ooold stuff. I dunno. It was fine though - he had a corner of Mexico City set up right there on stage, with an apartment building, a bar, a hair-cutting place, road tunnel/taxi, and billboards (inflatable WHUT). I noticed he stuck to his less-controversial music - no gay-perspective song here - and he even decided to forgo his sad songs. Maybe he doesn't like to spend his tour singing being sad over his music, though it obviously never sad about it? WHO KNOWS.

Overall, quite enjoyable. A night well spent, especially when the rest of the family up in the nosebleed seats started dedicated songs to my dad and uncle down where we were. Just goes to show how LOUD my aunt can scream that we heard her over the speakers and from so far away.