Cool Rider

Leave it to me to forget to charge my phone and miss a photo op with Superbads McLovin.

I had a super mellow day today. Nothing much was going on with work. I was thinking about heading down to Orange County to see a friends band play but was still playing it by ear. I haven't been feeling well so I wanted to see how I felt at the end of my day before I committed. I also had the option to go kick it with Glasses for a few hours tonight. He's a few Blogs behind so it was time for me to go by and give him a reading.

At around 3pm I get a text from Hippie Chick, "Any interest in seeing the Foo fighters tonight? Secret show but we have to pick up tix at 5pm in echo park. $20 each."

I mean did she seriously need to ask?

"Uh hell yeah!! I have cash on me..what time would I need t meet up with you?" I text back.

HC, "Gonna leave The Plex at 4pm. Are you home?"

I tell her I'm not so we decide to meet at the EchoPlex at 5pm.

The only problem was I didn't get off work until 6pm. There is no way I'm missing the Foo Fighters. Luckily for me my assistant manager had been nagging me to call the doctor all day. I've been hacking up a lung for the last couple of days and being the mama bear she is she was concerned. So I tell her I'm going to call the doctor in the back. I pick butt in my stock room for a few minutes and then come back out to the sales floor in a panic.

"They said they can see me today but at 5pm...I'm going to call someone in." I tell her hurriedly.

She falls for it and an hour later I'm in my car speeding down the 101 freeway to the EchoPlex.  I feel a tad bit guilty using her concern for me like this. Not enough to deter me but my guilt has been noted.

I barely make it in time. I call up Hippie Chick and she guides me to a parking lot next to the line. The Street Artist comes running up and pulls me back to where she is waiting. I hear a grumble from behind me as I slip in next to her. I'm oblivious and luckily give off a strong enough bitch guard to keep the complainers from speaking directly to me. Five minutes later we hear the announcement.

"The line cut off is here," he says gesturing about 10 people behind me, "Congratulations. You all will be getting tickets. Anyone behind this mark. Sorry. No wristband. No entry. Have a good night!"

We are thrilled! The three of us High five each other and do a little happy dance.  Then we get a call from Astro Boy. We all look at eachother sending a silent, "Uh oh". The Street Artist answers and tells him the bad news. HC and I can hear his screams of sorrow through the phone.

Street Artist hangs up and tells us,"Dude he is freaking out. He was screaming and talking about how shitty his life is. I mean if I was walking down the street and heard him I would have been afraid. This is bad. I mean like suicide watch bad."

We all look at each other not sure what to do. There is no way he can slip into the line at this point. The security gaurds all over us and if we let in one more person there will be a riot for sure.The line starts to move again so for the moment we let it go.  We walk up and after paying our $20 and showing our ID's we receive a wristband (which they place securely on our wrists) and a map to the actual performance location. The Echoplex was a decoy. The performance is going to be held at Spaceland in Silver Lake. Those tricky tricksters.

We all link our wrist banded arms together and run to the car hoping not to get jumped by the 50 people who are still waiting in line. We pile into my car and drive down to meet up with Homeless boyfriend at a Mexican food joint down the way. He is already on the guest list for tonight so he was able to skip the chaos. We call up Astro to join us.

He walks in and looks beyond bummed. We order up a few pitchers of margaritas and keep refilling his glass until the suicidal look leaves his eyes.  Dinner was silly fun as usual. We chant our waitress's name in appreciation everytime she approaches the table and the Street Artist and I decide that we were each others dates for the night. To make it official we both pull out our phones and change our Facebook status to "In a Complicated Relationship". We decide that for the next few weeks we would leave public love messages to each other and have an occasional 'wall' fight.

These are the types of moments I love having. I love not having to answer to anyone. I can have a fake boyfriend if I want too and I can show up to random concerts whenever I want and I can sit in this damn booth and drink my alcoholic beverage and not have to call one damn person to explain any of it. Being single really rocks sometimes. As you know this is the first time I've been single for more then a month in over 15 years. I'm really starting to get into my groove. Man I've been missing out.

It's nearing show time so we all pile into our cars. Hippie Chick and Homeless boyfriend in theirs, me and my date Street Artist in the other. We tell Astro to cruise down to Spaceland and meet us. I mean you never know? We might be able to sneak his unhappy ass in.

We get to the venue lickity split. Its a small nondescript building at the base of a hill. The billboard out front reads, " The White Limo" after the Foo Fighters new album.

I guess back in 1995, Club Spaceland opened its doors with a small unheard of band opening for Beck. That band was the Foo Fighters. Today was the last day that Spaceland would have its original name. It was fitting that the Foo Fighters would close down the place they first opened all those years ago. The venue's new name was going to be Satellites. Lame.

After securing some parking, Street Artist and I roll up to the front of the club arm in arm. We see Astro waiting in line along with 30 other people. Man this sucks so bad. Getting him in is starting to look more and more like an impossibility. We ask if HB and HC are inside. He Shrugs his shoulder so we head into the venue to take a look. No wait. No hassle. We just flash them our magic wristbands and in we go. Awesome.

The place is tiny! I can't believe I'm actually going to see the Foo Fighters in such an intimate space. There are two rooms divided by a small waist height wall. Up a short flight of stairs is a pool room with a second bar that overlooks the stage. The stage itself is just big enough to support a full band. The walls are covered by a metallic blue and silver curtains. The lighting and sound system are decent. On stage a punk band is destroying the music world with their shitty rendition of punk rock. The Street Artist and I decide to make the most of it and dance around while waiting for the bartender to take our order.

All of a sudden The Street Artist bolts across the room towards the door. I look over and to my surprise I see Hippie Chick, Homeless Boyfriend and oh lord I can't believe my eyes, Astro Boy all locked into a hug! The Street Artist crashes into them and they all swing around in his embrace. I yell out a, "No freaking way!" and run over too. We are all hugging and screaming as if Astro just got back from war. I don't know how he did it but Homeless Boyfriend worked his line bypass magic and got him in.

"Please remind me about this moment the next time I say to any of you my life sucks ok?" he tells us. We all laugh and high five each other. I know we all must look completely nuts but none of us care. That's one thing I love about the Hipster crew. They are all confident individuals that could give a shitless about what they look like in front of others. These aren't Party Chasers. They are the party.

Street Artist and I lead the crew back over to the bar so that they can order a drink. I stand to the side. I had one Margarita at the restaurant so im good to go. I'm still feeling pretty shitty so I decide to stick to water the rest of the night. I start to look around the room when I notice a familiar face a few heads down the bar. It's Dave Grohl.

"Oh my god, Street look!" I say to Street Artist as I pull on his shoulder.

"Holy shit" he says.

There the man was just kicking it at the bar in a black hooded sweatshirt and a beer in hand. And here I was cameraless. My phone had died when we were at the restaurant. Unfreaking believable. I settle for staring. It will have to do.

"Hey look, there's Mclovin." Street Artist says as he swings me around.

Now I'm pissed. I always have my camera and the one time I don't I miss a photo op with Dave Grohl and Chistopher Mintz the actor who played freakin Mclovin in Superbad.

"Let's ask him if he wants to go outside and smoke with us,"The Street Artist says grinning.

"Let's do it!" I reply laughing. I start to walk towards him when Streets stops me. "Wait. Let me look up his real name." he says pulling out his phone.

"Good one!" I tell him.

We are both hunched over his phone looking it up when Mclovin comes walking passed us. I push down Street Artist's phone so that he doesn't see our stalker ass's looking at his head shot.

"Fast thinking," Streets says laughing.

We get his name and tell the crew our plan. We leave them at the bar laughing and Street Artist drags me through the crowd after Mclovin. We figure it will be easier to approach the guy if Streets has a hot chick by his side.

We pull up next to him and Street says,"Hey Chris, How are you? I just wanted to see if you wanted to come out with us and hit the pipe for a sec?"

Mclovins eyes open up wide and then he throws his head back and laughs. "Thank you thank you but my asthma has been really bad so I've had to cut back on that stuff. But whats your name man?"

"Street Artist," he tells him as they shake hands.

Then Mclovin's eyes fall on me and he asks," And yours?"

"Carrie" I tell him as he gives my hand a squeeze.

Street and Mclovin exchange a few more words that I don't catch over the shitty bands screaming. We give him a wave and then walk away. That was fun. Mclovin. Funny.

We head back to the gang just in time to see Kathy Griffin and Ron Jeremy walk through the door arm in arm.  Could this night get any better?  I love Kathy. Love love her. Her honesty and uncensored non existent filters remind me of someone near and dear to me....

The horrid band finally finishes up and The Foo Fighters step onto the stage. I can't believe how close I am to them. I mean there is seriously barely 200 people in this joint. It's unbelievable!

Now I've been a fan of the Foo Fighters. I mean they've had more then their share of hits. But nothing prepared me for this. Right before Dave hit his first note Astro turns to me and says, "Be prepared to have your face Rocked Off." He takes his hand  and passes it across his face. Ok my man. Bring it on.

Rocked off was an understatement. The concert was life changing. The band was perfection. Dave's voice flawless. They played every single song from their new album and then proceeded to play every hit they've ever released. We were going nuts! We were bouncing and dancing and laughing and singing along. Astro yells in my ear, "Can you believe how shitty this crowd is?"

He's right. You could see our enjoyment all over our bodies but these boushy wanna be's surrounding us barely even moved. I mean this was a real rock concert. It was loud and hot as satans crotch in the room but we didn't give a shit. We bounced and sweated our way through every song. Meanwhile these losers just sort of swayed there. Not being able to take it anymore the Street Artist empties out his pockets and hands his beer to me.

"I'm going to go stage dive!" he tells me.

Ok. Go for it man.

He takes off through the crowd only to return after 10 minutes looking pissed. "Dude," he says,"These damn losers man. They wouldn't let me get up there! What kind of concert is this?"

Before I can respond I feel Hippie Chicks nails dig into my shoulder."What?" I ask her.

"It's Gwen freaking Stefani." She tells me, her eyes opened wide.

"What!? Where?!" I say back shocked.

"Behind you. Behind the DJ booth against the wall...Next to Gavin Rossdale.." she replies between her teeth. "She looks so beautiful!"

I can't bring myself to turn around. I'm seldom star struck but come on? Its Gwen. I looovvvve her!

I grab HC by the shoulders and turn her back to the DJ booth so that I can look over her shoulder without making it obvious. She was right. There she was. She was leaning up against the wall wearing an oversized black off the shoulder shirt, her hair pulled back into a platinum pony tail with her trademark red lipstick. She looked amazing!

I grab Street Artist and tell him the news in his ear. He asks where she is but then we can't get him to look at her. "I can't look...I can't," he keeps repeating. I grab him by the shoulders like I had HC and place my back to Gwen so that he can look at her over my shoulder.

I can't get the guy to look up. He has securely buried his head into my shoulder and is shaking it back and forth. I laugh and grab the back of his hair and force him to look up. I see his eyes pop open as he spies her with his little eye and promptly turns around to scream.

Just then the Foo Fighters start rocking out another hit. Dave has opened up a water bottle and pours it over his head. He starts swinging his hair around to the music and rips off another rockin wail into the mic.

"That's it!" The Street Artist yells out."I'm surfing!"

He hands me back his beer and sprints through the crowd. A few minutes later I see his little moccasined feet rise into the air. "There he is!" I scream out to HC and HB.

There was our little Street Artist riding the crowd 4 feet away from the Foo Fighters. He would disappear every few seconds down into the crowd and then reappear back up into the air. He had a pretty good ride until security reached over from the top of the stage and pushed him back down. Awesome.

He comes running back to us smiling from ear to ear. We all give him high fives and hugs. I can see Mclovin a few feet away giving us a thumbs up. Then I look over at Gwen and see her staring at us. The women is only about 8 feet away. Like I said the crowd was pretty dull so I know our little group with all its exuberance is sticking out like a sore thumb. I know that look on her face. She wants to hang. I'm tempted to go over and ask her to join our little noisy crowd. But then I think better of it. It will be sort of hard to speak to someone you can't even bring yourself to look directly at.

Her and Gavin take each others hands and walk down from the booth. They are now standing right behind our little group. Astro boy walks over and says to Gavin, "hey man. there are still about 15 people waiting outside in line. Anyway you can do something about that and help get them in?"

Gavin throws back his head and laughs. Leave it to one of ours to try to get a star to help us bypass the line for the dearly rejected outside.  Gavin takes Gwens hand again and they walk out. Gwen seemed blue. She had that, "I'm fighting with my man" expression on her face. Where ever you are Gwen dear, next time, come kick it with us.

The concert seems to go on forever. I think it actually lasted about 2 hours. The boys rocked out atleast 30 songs. I've never seen anything like it. Hippe Chick and I begin to get tired and are way to sweaty to comfortably stand in the crowd anymore. We leave the boys and head upstairs where the air conditioning seems to be located. We take a seat at a booth next to Kathy Griffin. Damn I wish I had my camera. She is so stinking tiny. I had no idea. I could seriously fit her into my pocket.

HC grabs us a couple of waters from the bar and we both sit side by side watching the band from behind the glass divider. I can't believe what a great night its been. I feel so good. I can see the boys down below bouncing around and hugging each other. Homeless Boyfriend is swinging his long hair around doing a pretty good impression of Dave. I giggle to myself. I love this. This is what I needed. To just be able to go out and be me and have a good time. Just then a guy walks by and pauses for a second seemingly staring at my shoes. "Love the black pedicure," he says to me and walks away. "Ew, foot fetish, " HC says.

"We need to find you someone" she says scanning the room.

"Honestly," I tell her, "I'm good. I feel really good. There is not one ounce of me that feels the need to meet someone tonight. I feel good being here alone."

And it's true. I think about my relationships of the past. I mean there is no way Huge Asshole would have been ok with me being here. He was totally insecure and jealous. The whole time I would have been texting him reassurances that I wasn't getting groped all night. Or worse. I would have had to invite him here just so that I could watch him scanning the room moodily looking to see who was looking at my ass.

Then there was Nutty as a Fruitcake. He wouldn't be looking around the room or at the band or necessarily socializing with anybody. He would have had his huge arms wrapped around me in an anaconda like embrace, not caring that it was hot as all hell in the joint. He would have just been looking into my eyes in his,"I worship you more then god" way and telling me how cute I was. It's funny how I really enjoyed his attachment to me in the beginning but soon I tired of being his entire world. It was so draining. He was my first experience with the, "If I can't have you no one can" type of scary breakup. But that's a story I'll save for another blog.

"That's great Carrie," Hippie Chick tells me," Honestly, this is the first time in a long time that I've seen you being you again. This is the Carrie I remember. It's wonderful."

"I know," I tell her "I let my relationships over the last couple of years take over and drain me of who I am. Its crazy how 2 months ago I was a total wreck. I feel so much better being alone now."

"I know," she says. "But I still have my eye out searching for someone for you."

I laugh,"Well I know what I want. When The Street Artist pulled me through the crowd by man hand it made me realize what I wanted from a man. I need a guy who's a leader. I need a guy who brings me to these events not someone who tags along with me. I need someone who is confidant and strong and I don't have to babysit. I mean I just wrote that in my blog the other day. About how I was glad things didn't work out between me and Partyboy. He is a guy I would have to bring here and then babysit. Just another guy I would have to take care of."

"Yeah, but you two have mad chemistry" she tells me."You could see it when you were together."

"I know. It's still there. Whenever I'm around he still tries to get my attention and let everyone in the room know we know eachother. The other night he was leaning on me at the strip club like this." I lean over and demonstrate for her.

"Oh my god dude, he is totally like a little puppy." She says.

"Exactly. He reminds me of Huge Asshole. I know how hard it is to find someone you have chemistry with. I mean I never would have stayed with Huge Asshole as long as I did if it wasn't for the damn sex. It kept me there way longer then I should have stayed through all of his bullshit."

"I know what you mean," she says. "It's hard letting go of something like that. It's great that you know what you want. I mean your older and you've been married and had a few really serious relationships. Your at a point were you can identify what you need from a man and not settle. But just know. I've got my eye out for you."

I laugh and turn back to the band. Just then they pull out another hit from their ass so Hippie Chick and I run back down to the boys to bounce around to the hits.

Dave finally says his goodbyes to the crowd. The Foo Fighters exit the stage, but we are all from LA and know the drill. An encore will be had. Which is the problem with these wanna be snobs in the audience. They give some half ass cheers and applause. Not nearly appreciative enough for the band to fake like they were forced back out onto the stage.

Astro boy takes the problem into his own hands. "Foo Fight. Ers! Foo Fight. Ers!" he begins to chant at the top of his lungs, punctuating each syllable with his fist. Street Artist, Hippie Chick, Homeless boyfriend and I all start to scream out the chant with him. It takes us about 8 chants before the weak crowd finally takes up the chant. But it works. The Foo Fighters step back onto the stage and rock out 5 more songs.

Now that was a freaking amazing concert. This goes down as my favorite of all time.

The night is over. We all head outside so that the boys can get a few interviews for their website before we go. The boys finish up and we all walk back up to our cars.

I pass out hugs and and get in my car and head home a little sad that I'm not heading back to The Plex with the rest of the hipster crew. I'll have to start packing tomorrow for sure.

I had an amazing night. Alone. With no man. I could get used to this being single thing.

But I know the euphoria won't last. We all get lonely. Even me. But now atleast I know what I want.

I'm a huge Grease fan. I own part one and part two. There is a song in part 2 that Michelle Pfeiffer sings that I can't get enough of. I can't say it any better then this so here is it:

"If you really want to know
What I want in a guy...
Well, I'm lookin' for a dream on a mean machine
With hell in his eyes.
I want a devil in skin tight leather,
And he's gonna be wild as the wind.
And one fine night, I'll be holdin' on tight...

To a coooool rider, a coooool rider.
If he's cool enough,
He can burn me through and through.
Whhoa ohhhh
If it takes forever,
Then I'll wait forever.
No ordinary boy,
No ordinary boy is gonna do.
I want a rider that's cool.

That's the way it's gonna be,
And that's the way that I feel.
I want a whole lot more than the boy next door,
I want hell on wheels.
Just give me a fine motorcycle,
With a man growin' out of the seat.
And move aside, cause I'm gonna ride... "

I want a man with hell in his eyes. I want a man who makes me feel like a silly girl everytime he enters the room. I want a man who thrills me. I want a leader. I want a man who is the party. Hell better yet someone who makes the party. I want a man who knows what I need. I want someone I can give into and let him know I'm his for the taking. No ordinary boy will do for me. Not anymore. I want to burn. I want to ride.

I want a Cool Rider.