Last Chances

I shouldn't be in this spot right now.

I shouldn't be nearly 30 years old, struggling to find a job.

I don't regret leaving my last job despite an offer to stay, with a promotion. I left because I didn't think it was the best opportunity. It was a good opportunity, one that I've reconsidered since, but I still think it was the right move to find out what was available. Plus, the immediate benefit of the financial package was a shot in the arm that my conquest to reduce my debt really needed.

What I've realized over the past couple of months is that I really botched my opportunity with that company in my 3 years there. I started off very strong, impressing everyone from my manager to the Sr. VP of HR. I was in an entry level role essentially, but I was sharp, eager, and inventive, and within 9 months I worked myself into a position created for me, partly because there was a need, but also partly because I communicated an interest & convinced them I could do the job.

When I got into that new job, a role that required me to revamp an outdated training program & implement it within months so that we could train incoming HR personnel from our newly acquired stores, things changed. I became disenfranchised in that position because I realized that the development side of training was not necessarily where my passion was, at least not in that capacity. I had worked on creating training curriculum a couple of years before, but I was never solely responsible for it. Additionally, I've never been the greatest at networking, and combined with how isolated our department was anyways, I really didn't have any relationships built that I could trust. So there I was, on my own, trying to develop a new training program. I took it upon myself to rewrite our training manuals, which is a huge feat for someone who is an expert and\or experienced in technical writing, let alone someone like me.

Instead, I spent a large portion of my time surfing the internet. I should have stepped up, asked for help, tried to initiate contacts with other areas, motivated myself to take this project by the balls and own it. I didn't. I used my time by doing as little work as possible. It nearly cost me my job.

Last January, I was told I was being let go. When I was moved into the training job, I was told it was a temporary position until March of the following year, when the transitional period for the new stores would be over. I would have had to find a new position afterwards, but I was so favored by everyone at the time that it didn't appear it would be a problem. But my work ethic was so poor during that time that followed that I wasn't going to be kept around. To make matters even worse, there were layoffs in our department, and they all were receiving severance packages. However, I would have been let go without severance because I was "temporary." Our department's VP had no interest in finding a new spot for me, but my immediate boss, the director, was willing to give me another chance. It was nothing but pure luck that someone in a critical role left at this time as well. It was easier to fill the job internally, so they offered me the position. It was my last chance.

I stepped it up in this new job, but it still wasn't really what I wanted to do. I did enjoy my job more, but I still didn't put forth the kind of effort needed if I wanted to be successful. Instead, I chose to find a better balance between doing my job and not doing my job. I did what I needed to do, but rarely beyond, and I sometimes needed prodding. My reputation was firmly entrenched as someone who was sharp, intelligent, with the potential to be so much more if I just worked harder.

Being in the divisional office of a major retailer meant that I had the opportunity to work on a number of projects that would have really built my experience as an HR professional. I had access to a large number of well-established HR contacts with experience in any aspect of Human Resources. And I let it go to waste because I chose to spend so much time at work reading poker blogs & sports articles.

I haven't had a face-to-face interview since the end of May. My job search for the past couple of months has consisted of nothing but immediate dismissals, with the occasional phone interview. Some of it has just been circumstance; I could probably be employed now if I wanted to take a $10k paycut, but that isn't an option. My resume has been leaving companies feeling underwhelmed about my experience, so I've restructured my resume to focus on my growth with my previous companies, showing how quickly I've moved into roles of increasing responsibility. I've stepped up my networking attempts, trying to create opportunities that may not have been there before, increasing my visibility to the employer. I'm finally doing something that I should have done the past couple of years: I'm trying harder.

I have two phone interviews this week, and I have my resume in the hands of several people at two other companies. I have four chances right now to convince one of these employers to take a chance on me; that, despite my limited experience, I am the person who will be the most successful for them. These might be the last chances I get before I have to start lowering my expectations, and I need to do everything in my power to make sure that when I'm convincing them of my ability to be successful that it's the truth.

I shouldn't be in this position right now, but I am, and it's no one's fault but my own.

Wish me luck.

Some Posts Don't Need Words

Found via TrueHoop on ESPN:

Weekend In Bend, Part 2

Saturday

I started off Saturday with the intent to run 3 miles in the morning. I had a half-marathon to train for, and I couldn't let myself get too far astray from my training plan with just over 2 months to go. Luckily, I wasn't very hungover in the morning and was able to get through the first mile with no problem. Once I hit the second mile, it started getting a bit tougher, but not so much due to my hangover.

I had to poop.

Miraculously, around this same time, I ran into my girlfriend, who was on the tail end of her 10 mile run. We decided to walk the last couple of miles, stopping at a McDonald's nearby to allow me to relieve myself. On the walk back to the house, we came across a neighborhood market that had bikes for rent. We had plans of renting a group of bikes and doing a brewery tour on bicycle later in the day. However, these were no normal bikes. I don't even think these classified as tandem bikes. They were two person bikes, but they were more like buggies, with the seats side by side. They even had a four person variety as well, and they were pretty inexpensive as well. We contemplated renting some right then, but we decided wait in case others were interested.

We got home around 11, and everyone else was finally awake, either cooking breakfast or showering. All of us were feeling pretty good considering the shenanigans of the night before, and we were ready to walk down to a different bike shop Wac & I had found on our run earlier that day. Just before we left, I had the bright idea that maybe we should call them to check on their availability & prices. Good thing we did - they didn't even do rentals. We tried another place; only 2 bikes available. The next place had 5 bikes and they were double the price. We found one that had 10 bikes and was reasonably priced, only to discover they were 15 miles away in another city. It was apparent we only had one choice.

Bicycles built for four.

So six of us left to go check out the bikes at the market while the other four were off on a coffee run, intending to catch up with us later. We walked through the Old Bend neighborhood to the market, picked up our bikes, and started on our leisurely ride through the town of Bend.

Only it was anything but leisurely. It was hard goddamn work. Since we were all in a seated position, we really had to pump our legs to get any motion, and whoever was stuck in the two person bike had to work even harder. It wasn't leisure, it was a fucking workout. And we couldn't even go very fast, making us a liability anytime we got on a major street. So we nixed the idea of riding around Drake Park and instead headed to the nearby Deschutes Brewery, despite the absence of 40% of our party.

It turned out that they had the same idea, and we all ended up at the same place at the same time. They were already a couple samples deep, and we squeezed in one or two before the tour started. The tour was unlike other breweries I had toured previously (Heineken, Guinness) in that it was more informational or educational than it was entertaining. But it was also free, including the tastings, and it was interesting being able to walk around the entire production part of the brewery. We got in a couple more tastings before we left, including a sample of the Black Butte XX Porter, the 20th anniversary version of their most renowned beer.

Oh. My. God.

This beer is a-maz-ing. It's their standard porter brewed with the addition of coffee & high-end chocolate, then left in whiskey barrels. Or something like that; check out their website for more info. Anyways, bearing in mind my limited exposure to Porters & my fairly novice status as a beer expert, this is hands-down the best Porter I've ever had, and easily one of the 5 best beers ever. So smooth, so chocolatey, and so strong - 11% alcohol! It is also a limited release, so I picked up two of the 750ml bottles, a bargain at $10 a pop, and we headed back to the market to return the bikes.

Lunchtime was long overdue, and the six of us decided to embark on a trip to the magic land of Sonic Drive-In. Wac & Erik never had Sonic, but the rest of us were more than familiar with the goodness of their tater tots & their flavored drinks. I went with the Bacon Cheeseburger Toaster, a burger topped with BBQ sauce & an onion ring between two slices of Texas Toast, along with some Cheesy Tots and a Diet Sprite (gotta watch the carbs somehow).

We got back to the house & nearly all of us passed out in a tired, beer & carb induced, post-quad-bike-riding slumber. But it was only 4pm, the sun was shining, the weather was perfect, and I wasn't going to succumb to sleep today either. So I got in enough of a nap to refuel myself, and by 5pm, I was awake, with a pint of Ruby in hand, hanging out on the patio with Simon's girlfriend Molly, enjoying the few rays of sun that would peek through the tree branches. It was this moment that epitomized everything I hoped this weekend would be, just enjoying a beer outside with friends, hanging out in this amazing house, with nary a moment of stress or bother. One of those moments that makes you never want to leave ever again.

Unless, of course, you're leaving to grab another pint. Or another. Or another.

In the course of a couple hours I was several pints deep, and a group of us decided to go catch a free showing of Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Of course, a movie at McMenamins isn't just your standard movie. It's a theater of mostly couches, with a stand inside where you can order food from the restaurant, as well as any of their wonderful beers. I went with the blue cheese bacon burger & another pint of Ruby.

(Note: McMenamins has several wonderful beers, but for me, on a bright, warm Summer day, nothing tops a Ruby, a pinkish ale with a very strong hint of citrus, including grapefruit. It looks girly & to many probably tastes girly, but whatever, it's amazing and, in my opinion, a perfect Summer beer).

We got out of the movie around 10:30 to find the rest of our party at the house with beers in hand, and we immediately joined them. It was a perfect night: just a group of friends, drinking beer, telling stories, shoving our faces with chips & salsa. I tried to teach others how to fling bottle caps with a simple snap of the fingers. Matt & Clay turned on the Misfits and started bouncing around to the music. Simon thought it would be a good idea to start chucking plastic plates at anyone lingering on the patio.

Then, I had another bright idea.

Years ago, when I was a senior in high school, I was living with my parents in a two story apartment. The stairs to the second floor ran directly down the middle, ending right at the front door. One night, when my nieces & nephew were very young, I thought it would be a fun idea to slide down the stairs on my belly with them on my back. The stairs were carpeted so it really didn't hurt at all, and there was plenty of time to stop before the doorway, so it was relatively safe. The kids absolutely loved it, and thus, bodysliding was born.

In my drunken haze, I thought it would be a good idea to relive this moment. So I went up to the middle of the stairs and flew down on my stomach, coming to a stop right before the wall. Everyone thought I was crazy, but I just laid there in a heap with my two thumbs up, a smile on my face, everything just OK.

Kelli & Simon, in their own drunken haze, thought it would be a good idea as well, only their ideas was to pile on top of me. A three-man bodyslide. In the history of man, I don't know if this had ever been attempted. And I don't know if it will ever again.

Once I got going, Kelli & Simon leaped on my back, stomach down, and my chest felt the pressure of two full grown adults on my body, so I came to a stop. Kelli & Simon did not, and flew head first into the wall, a crumpled mess of bodies. Luckily, Wac had the foresight to place a couch cushion there (and at the expense of half a fingernail ripping off in the process), so complete tragedy was avoided. But as they laid there, bruised & moaning, I smiled & held two thumbs up again.

The debauchery mellowed from there, but the drinking did not. Kelli kept handing us beers, regardless if we already had one. Simon and I started throwing popcorn at each other, with most of it landing on the ground. Finally, those that were less intoxicated started heading to bed, and those that were more intoxicated found that to be a good idea, so around 3am, the festivities ended.

Sunday

10am came too early. Many of us could have used another hour or twelve of sleep, but we had to be out of the house by 11am. A few gracious souls like Erik, Amanda, Molly and Wac were already awake, getting a headstart on cleaning up the mess. The rest of us stumbled around, gathering our things, trying to make the place look respectable again. We made a couple sandwiches for breakfast, packed up our things and headed home.

Of course, not without another stop at Sonic first.

The ride home was considerably more somber than the ride there. I had no playlist ready for the ride home, so we settled on some stand-up albums from Patton Oswalt and David Cross. That carried us to Portland, where we switched up to 5-song random shuffles from everyone's iPod.

After a pit stop for Subway in Castle Rock, we got slowed by some unexplainable traffic between Olympia & Tacoma. But the sun was still shining, and we crawled along, waiting to get home to a beautiful Summer day in Seattle.

No such luck. On this Sunday, Seattle was again gloomy and dark. A sky full of clouds prevented most of the sun from peeking through. It was dull, gray, and depressing, perhaps a fitting sign that the "best weekend ever" had finally come to an end.

Weekend In Bend, Part 1

So I did come back. Although I really didn't want to.

Friday

I woke up on Friday at 8:30am, about a half-hour before we were supposed to leave. That may not seem very noteworthy until you consider that I probably didn't fall asleep until about 2 hours prior. I tried to force myself asleep around 1:30am, but considering I didn't wake up Thursday until 11:30am, combined with the excitement from thinking about the weekend ahead, it was a pointless cause.

The rest of our weekend roommates showed up within the next half-hour, and we finally hit the road around 9:30. I had spent parts of the past couple of days preparing a road trip playlist; 5.5 hours of music carefully selected to maximize the road trip experience. A delicate combination of obscure tracks and familiar sing-a-longs, placed in order to match the mood of the drive. So, how does one start this playlist?

Pink. "Get The Party Started."

Totally cliche, I know. In fact, it was purely a joke on my part, and within 10 seconds I skipped to the next track: "Plane Crash" by Toadies. No one else knew the song, but I couldn't think of a better opening track. It starts with a fast, punk-rock chord for about 5 second before the singer launches into a scream that sounds like an all-out roadhouse brawl. I let one out myself too, and with that, the weekend had begun.

I must commend myself on my playlist skills. Not everyone is able to take songs by the Gin Blossoms, Save Ferris, Portishead, The Dillinger Escape Plan, Rocket From The Crypt, and Europe and turn into a playlist that sounds cohesive, but also nearly time the playlist perfectly. Alas, the playlist ended with "Hysteria" by Muse about 10 miles before our actual destination. Personally, I blame it on getting tied up by idiots who either don't understand the concept of passing on the left or don't have the balls to do it.

We finally got to the house at McMenamins, and it was everything we could have hoped for. Two stories, five bedrooms, with a porch & and a bar not even 20 feet from our backdoor. The house was the biggest of the four that sat on the back end of the property with a community patio & and a whiskey-cigar bar right next door. Of course, this area was open to the public as well, so we had to share the area with many of Bend's fine residents, but only we had the ability to grab a pint and take it back to our house. We could drink on the porch, we could drink on the couch, we could drink in the shower, we could fall asleep on the beds drinking a pint if we wanted. Bend was our oyster, and we were about to start doing oyster shooters.

After kicking off the weekend with the requisite pints of Ruby and baskets of tator tots, we head into downtown Bend to find a place to eat. After consulting with some of the locals, we settled on an Italian place. Of course, we didn't take into consideration that most places probably weren't ready to handle a party of 8 on a Friday at a moment's notice, so we had to split into two tables. It ended up being a fairly good choice - not the best Italian I've ever had, but definitely good stuff.

We finally put an end to the carbohydrate binge and headed back to house. Others decided to indulge in the Turkish bath house on the premises, but the combo of beer, carbs, and two hours of sleep followed by a 8 hour road trip thoroughly kicked my ass, so at 7:45pm, I headed to the comfort of my bedroom.

Of course, that didn't last long. Sleep or no sleep, I wasn't about to let this weekend go to waste just because I was tired. I got in about a good hour of sleep before waking up around 9pm, and we all headed out to the patio again for some more pints. There was a 30 year high school reunion gathering at the bar as well, making for some good people watching. We spent time trying to identify who the school sluts were, and making fun of a man we named "Steve" for shattering his pint glass.

We headed back to the house afterwards for more drinking. Rather than spending $4 a pint, our friend Simon and I made a beer run earlier in the day to pick up some cheaper drinks. Simon, being a WSU Cougar, opted for the 30 pack of Keystone Light. I, being a man of more refined tastes, went with some Weinhard's Hefeweizen and an unfamiliar Oregon beer, MacTarnahan's Ale. After the obligatory chugging\shotguning of a can of Keystone, most of us gathered for some drunken games of Uno Attacks. Wac turned into bed early since she was staying dedicated to her marathon training & had planned a 10 mile run the next morning. Our other two guests, Clay & Brooke, finally arrived and headed out to drink with their friends Matt & Kelli. The rest of us stayed home for a rousing round of Apples To Apples. The game started off slow, with most of us making very well thought out choices, but as the beer kept flowing, the arguments got louder and more boisterous. By the time the night started coming to a close, we were shouting out statements like "What the fuck is wrong with you, how is Eleanor Roosevelt not sexier than a cactus?"

We finally put the game to an end around 1:30am, and we called it a night shortly thereafter. The house was cluttered with smashed Keystone Light cans, half-empty bottles of Hefe, and discarded leftover containers from the Italian restaurant. It was a disaster. But compared to how we would leave the house the following night, the place was as pristine as an operation room.

Coming tomorrow: a bicycle built for four, quite possibly the best beer ever, and drunken bodysliding.

I May Never Come Back

Here's where all the 4am bedtimes come back to screw me over.

In just over 8 hours, I go on vacation. Of course, when we started planning this last September, I didn't expect it to be a vacation from doing nothing, but it's a vacation nonetheless.

At 9am, Wac & I, along with 6 of our friends (and two of their friends), depart on a road trip to the magical land known as Bend, Oregon. It's basically the dead center of Oregon, 6 hours away according to Google maps (but they drive the speed limit, so probably no more than 5.5).

Go ahead, ask.

The short answer is: beer. We're traveling 6 hours for beer. And in fact, it's the same beer we can get at a bar just blocks from our apartment.

The long answer is: to stay at a McMenamins brewery\hotel, where we're renting a 5 bedroom house on the premises. Also on this premises includes three bars, a movie theater, and a Turkish bath house. If this sounds familiar, it's because Wac & I stayed there on our road trip last year. I really didn't do justice with my description of the place last year. I still think Wac describes it best when she called it "summer camp for adults".

Seriously, we can have beer delivered to our house by room service. And that's if we're too lazy to walk across the courtyard to the bar itself.

It helps that Bend is a decent little town too. The downtown area has a decent bar scene, it's located right next to a beautiful park, and it's got a couple of microbreweries in the area, including Deschutes.

Anyways, if you don't hear from me in a while, it could just be me being a lazy blogger again. Or I could have decided to live the rest of my life as a transient in Bend, begging people for change for one more pint of Ruby, constantly trying to sneak my way into the Turkish bath house.

I can think of so many worse ways to spend my life. And few better.

P.S. To clarify something from my last post. We do not force our cats to use a litter box half their size. That picture is two years old, when we just got Little Kitty, who was only maybe 6 weeks old, and very much able to use a litter box of that size. Big Kitty, shown in the picture, decided that it was much easier to use the litter box in the room, despite it's size, rather than walk to the other side of the apartment. So before you get all PETA-crazy on us, know that we are very good pet owners. We are just owners of two mildly retarded cats.

Besides, look at that face. He loves it!

Picture Pages

Not much to say this time. Today really didn't consist of much. Mostly playing Guitar Hero, a trip to the gym, and downloading some music from the 90's. Forgotten stuff like Afghan Whigs, Dinosaur Jr, and Sponge.

It's kind of amazing that Sponge wasn't a better band. Songs like Molly, Plowed, and even Wax Ecstatic are fucking great. But Rotting Pinata, their first album...eh, not so much.

Hum was a great 90's band too. Never forget that. Go pick up a Hum album right now, any one that you can find. You won't be disappointed.

Anyways, today's post is just a bunch of random pictures that I feel like posting. Enjoy.


Dublin in the winter:














Columbia River Gorge from Gorge Amphitheater














Seattle skyline














Big Kitty in little litter box














Golden Gate Bridge:














Little Kitty:














Sunset in Seattle














Really excited to be going to Vegas:














Big Kitty being sexy:

So It Begins

Starting tomorrow, today, whatever. It's 3AM but it's still my Monday.

Starting whenever I wake up later today, I have to stop being lazy. I've put off training for my half-marathon as long as I could, but if I don't start tomorrow, then it's going to be very difficult for me.

I've put it off this long because that's just my nature. I'm unemployed, I'm lazy, and I'd rather spend my time playing poker or Guitar Hero. I'm not proud nor ashamed of that. It's just how I am.

But it's something I want to see change, and it's not going to happen on it's own, so I need to start putting forth the effort. I have been to the gym a couple times the past two weeks (specifically, once each week) and I've already noticed a difference from one day to the next. I'm still in much better shape than I was last year, but I'm not in the condition I was when I ran the St. Patty's Day 5k.

The plan for this week is 3 trips to the gym, ending with a 2 mile run on Saturday. It shouldn't be too hard; I've been there done that. Friday I'll do some sprints to help build up my stamina & endurance.

But from there, I increase the Saturday mileage by one mile each week. By the end of the month, I'll be four miles. On my birthday, I'll have to find time to run 6 miles. By September 20th, 11 miles.

What have I gotten myself into?

......

Yes, I'm still unemployed. I sent out my resume to 3 more companies last week. I redesigned my cover letter, spruced it up a bit, made it sound a bit less standardized.

Of course, I still used the same letter for two of the companies. At least I remembered to change the company in the second letter.

But I forgot to change the position. Fucking shortcuts. Hopefully they won't be confused when they get a letter from me, applying for a position they don't have.

The other company I did a special letter for. I'm really hoping that I can land this job & I'm pulling out all the stops. I took a chance & tried to go the humorous route with the letter because the job posting really emphasized that as being a key requirement for the candidate. They are also in the same industry as Wac, so I had her write a recommendation for me to have her boss send to someone at the company. I also have a former coworker who kinda sorta knows the recruiter there, and hopefully I can bombard them from that angle as well. I don't have anything to lose at this point, right? It's not possible that I can fuck up EVERY job opportunity that comes my way, is it?

Stay tuned.

Clarification

Just to clarify, for all those concerned.

I wasn't really that close to dropping the "C" word on 15-year old girls. I've never dropped it on any female of any age, and I don't think I ever would unless they did something horrible, like murder our cats or kick me in the balls or something.

Besides, I think you have to be British to use it. Maybe Australian.

Anyways, I was just expressing how pissed off I was. It's one thing to think certain thoughts, but I'm responsible enough to not let those thoughts slip my tongue.

And of course, by "C" word, I mean "clown".

Of course.

Seaward

Tonight, I went with a couple of friends to see the Foo Fighters in concert. I had seen them once before, back in 96 when they co-headlined with Rage Against The Machine at Mesa Amphitheater. I think it was a good show, but I don't really remember much from it, so I figured it would be best to go see them again.

I got tickets seated left-center of the stage on the other side of the floor. In Key Arena, these are good seats, really not too far away. Although I had seat 12, I sat in seat 10 since we had all three seats together. Man, I really wish I would have sat in my assigned seat.

I ended up sitting next to a couple of girls, probably not any older than 15. It's really hard to tell these days physically, but their behavior gave themselves away. Constantly giggling, non-stop text messaging, and just general goofing around. I really didn't mind at first, thinking that it couldn't last all show.

After Minus The Bear played a short set, the girls went back at it, nearly wrestling each other in the seats. The girl next to me came close to elbowing me in the face. I let it go at first, and they calmed down a bit until Supergrass came on.

Near the end of the extremely boring Supergrass set, they started throwing something around, and it ended up flying over my outstretched legs, under the seat just below me. Of course, the girls couldn't wait until the set to end to get whatever the hell it was, and squeezed past me to reach down and get it. To their credit, they did at least ask first, but never apologized.

I was really close to snapping at this point, but I really didn't feel like having to talk down to a couple of teenage girls, so I tried to shrug it off. They went off during the break before Foo Fighters, giving me some time to cool off. It wasn't enough. As soon as they got back, they started pushing each other around, again very nearly falling into me again. It was time to regulate.

"Excuse me, can I ask you a question?"
"Yeah, sure?"
"When the Foo Fighters come on, can you try to be just a little bit less annoying?"
"What?"
"You nearly elbowed me in the face a couple times already."
"I almost elbowed you?"
"Yeah, and I don't want to have to worry about that during the show."
"Well, I guess I'll try to work on that."
"Thanks."

That really doesn't capture the condescending tone I had, nor the sarcastic tone they had. At least it shut them up.

________________________________________________

Foo Fighters came on and just killed it, starting off with 6 songs straight without hardly breathing. Dave Grohl addressed the crowd and said "we're not here to play some bullshit one & a half hour show. We're talking all night, like 3, maybe 4 hours." The stage was set up with a long walkway leading down the middle of the floor, into some kind of circle platform with a tarp over it. No one really knew what was under there.

Shortly after those first 6 songs, the girls were back at it. Luckily, the Foos were loud enough that I was able to ignore them for the most part. During some more stage banter, the Foos asked the crowd who was here for their first time, and the girls screamed. I actually felt a bit sorry; this might have been their first show, and I probably could have been a bit more congenial. I almost apologized to the girls, but when I noticed their behavior was back to the same, it was hard not to be annoyed again.

After some 20-minute extended version of one song, I can't remember which, Dave Grohl walked out to the circular platform, which had been uncovered, and a small stage began descending from the ceiling. The rest of the band followed, plus four other musicians, for an acoustic set! I've been to a lot of shows, and I'd never seen anything like this. They played about 5 songs before the rest of the band headed back, while Dave just stayed there with his guitar, strumming a quiet riff. It didn't take more than 3 notes to recognize the song.

Everlong.

Talk about instant goosebumps! Just Dave & a guitar, singing a soft, acoustic version of one of my all time favorite songs. It was just absolutely beautiful, until...

Those fucking girls.

I didn't hear what they said, it didn't matter. They were talking, and they weren't screaming out at Dave. They were just talking to themselves about something, during the middle of arguably the best song from the 1990s. This was THE moment of the concert - what could be so important? I couldn't hold it any longer.

"Seriously, can you guys just shut up for one song?"
(incredulous looks on their face)
"One song, that's all I ask."

I was actually surprised that what came out was that polite. I was so fucking pissed at that point, I wouldn't have been surprised if I ended up dropping the "C" word on those 15 year old girls. Trust me, I know how strong that word is, I honestly don't think I've personally used it in a vindictive way. But I was ready too.

The song ended with the rest of the band kicking in after the breakdown, turning the song from a sweet acoustic version to a raucous sound of noise. Sadly, my memory of the moment will probably center around the fact that I had to play parent to a pair of disrespectful little bit....girls.

And to think, there was once a time when I used to really want kids.