A couple weeks ago, I took 5 teenagers (3 girls and 2 boys) as well as 2 moms to the Backstreet Boys concert at Starlake. We got a late 6pm start and bolted up. The ride up was noneventful. We entered the vacant parking lot right before 7pm. I asked one of the lot guys what the attendance was for this pavilion only show - he replied about 3,500. How depressing - their management should have booked them at Chevy Ampitheatre. Tix were pretty expensive and the 2 moms dished me out 2 freebies - which I sold below face for a grand total of $50.00. I was lucky to even find people to buy them. I decided not to go into the show. Instead, I hung out with the other limo drivers. The band really didn't sound that bad. They aren't really boys - I think they're all in their 30's. It slowly dawned on me that this show was a great place for a pedophile. Three thousand teens screaming in misguided ecstacy. Anyway, I set out to find the lone pedophile. Indeed, I found him near the end of the show walking up the steps. He was a balding dude in his late 40's. He had that weird, glazed look and that humpty dumpty persona which lends itself to the molestation process. I asked him what he thought of the show and he said it was fantastic. He'd never had such a good time but wanted to leave early so he could beat the rush. I said, "What rush? This is the weakest parking lot Starlake's seen all year" and he said, "Starlake??? This place is called the Post Gazette."
Anyway, the kids came back to the limo and were much more exuberant. Lots of yelling and screaming, cranking of the radio, and endless bickering about who farted. They informed me that they wanted to go to McDonalds. I had this ominous premonition about taking the limo through the drive thru at the Three Springs exit but I obliged them. My deepest fears turned into reality when the one kid started to place the order. All of this was totally haphazard. Absolute confusion. Everyone started chiming in with what they wanted. McFlurry! Cheeseburger with no onions! Large Fry! One blurted out McDogcrap. The poor McDonald girl looked at me with disgust as though I was to blame. I felt totally helpless. Then, the same kid looked at the girl and said (and I quote), "Keep the change, dollface." The entire limo errupted. Both moms in hysterics while simutaneously singing a Backstreet Boys song but substituting in the new lyrics about the dollface and her predisposition towards retaining the surplus cash. I bolted out of the drive thru and got back on 22. As expected, they were missing one of the sandwiches. However, they seemed to weather that storm. The entire ride home, the volume knob on the stereo fluctuated more than John Kerry's campaign tactics in 2004.
We finally made it to Woodsdale and they insisted on tipping me an extra 20 bucks event though I assured them that the 2 freebie tix were sufficient.
Reflecting on the negativity in this concert review, you'd think I had a bad time. But I kind of enjoyed that night. Sometimes I like to experience the annoying side of life. A little like that old Saved By The Bell episode where a young Screech gets his heart broken and a nurturing Miss Bliss plays the role of counseler. For that one special night, I became their Miss Bliss.