Let's talk about drunk bitches, viral videos, and me being put on sandwich watch last night. What is going on anymore?
THURSDAY: I felt the need to start off the night with some laughs, so naturally the Human Giant show was the perfect way to start off my evening. Sponsored by the SF Sketchfest, the comedy group was in town to promote and preview not only the new season of their show slated for MTV in March, but also to test out some stand-up material live. My hero Paul Scheer was unfortunately absent ("He accidentally shot himself in the throat with a free T-shirt like the ones we're shooting at you guys," said member Aziz Ansari), but Ansari and third member Rob Huebel still made the sketches work. The show was divided into video screenings and live performances, and seeing "Viral Videos" on a giant screen with other people makes it that much more funny. Additional shorts about CrimeTime ("Reenactment of the Reenactment," which deals when a reenactment actor kills other people during his reenactment shoot, and there has to be another reenactment of that for clarity) and Shutterbugs ("They took our idea with 'Kiditentiary' [a mock reality show about kids who patrol prisons]; it's just like 'Kidcentration Camp' but watered down") were standouts.
I then swung by CafÃ© du Nord to pick up my shiny new press pass (literally - it looked like it had just been laminated) and to check out the venue's show. I'd heard such great things about Or, The Whale, who was opening for The Dodos, and them being a locally bred outfit piqued my interest more. Teetering on country a la Ryan Adams but also keeping a rock folk mentality, the band had fantastic percussion and held my interest for the duration of their set.
Unfortunately, either the crowd seemed to be way hammered or not into Or, The Whale, as I ended up being stuck behind these two drunk blondes who were screaming to each other about the other's dinner choices and how unbelievably wasted they were. I moved, and ended up behind Make-Out Central with two different couples, and then moved a third time to the back where everyone was yelling-talking to one another. Seriously? I know people talk at shows, and I know it's a social environment, but if you're gonna do some serious lip service and have a full conversation about the blind date you had two nights go, go outside to the fucking lobby and do everyone a favor. Plus, isn't it just disrespectful in general? Frustrated, I left for Great Northern at Popscene, knowing that I was going to be in store for some nice indie pop tunes there and that I could catch The Dodos opening for Les Savy Fav in April. I'm sorry, guys...I don't have a high tolerance for douchebags. I wish I did.
I made it over to Rickshaw for Great Northern and met up with my friend Wayne outside, who was smoking. After he finished his last drag we approached the front door's security when the unbelievable happened.
"Excuse me, miss, do you have a sandwich in your bag?"
Wide-eyed, I turned to my friend Wayne, who two minutes previously I told that I had said sandwich and was going to sneak it in to eat it while I watched Great Northern play, and of which 30 seconds later said security guard asked me about because Wayne opened his big mouth. I tried to pass it off - "I don't know...do I have a sandwich?" I joked - but the security guard maintained his stoic stare and said, "Well, if you do have a sandwich, I'm going to have to ask you not to eat it."
A second security guard comes out and SG #1 says to SG #2 "Hey, this lady has a sandwich in her bag."
SG #2 then sternly says to me, "We're going to have to ask you not to eat the sandwich in the venue, miss."
What did roast beef ever do to these guys??
"Um...sure, no problem. I'm really sorry," I said, half-stifling laughter and half being nervous. Would they seriously not let me in with a wrapped Safeway sandwich in my purse?
"If we find you eating it on the floor, I'm afraid we'll have to take the sandwich away from you," said SG #1.
"And potentially kick you out," added SG #2. I couldn't even believe my ears.
"So what you're saying is that if I lay down on the floor and eat my sandwich, I'll have to leave?" I asked. These guys were not having my sense of humor. I shut up and nodded my understanding, and then promptly punched Wayne in the chest as we entered the Rickshaw.
"You are so on my shit list!" I yelled at him. "What the fuck?"
"I didn't know they'd freak out like that!" he yelled back, and we both collapsed into laughter. I ended up eating half a sandwich in the women's bathroom in a stall, and later on I saw SG #1 and #2 prowl the dance floor with flashlights. I joked to Wayne that they were on sandwich patrol, trying to locate me and my cibatta breaded meal to bust me on sandwich violation. It was too funny. And, like promised, Great Northern promised me the delicious sweet tunes I was craving for.
After the band finished we danced the night away while I sipped a drink special called "Mister Miyagi's Magic Potion;" here's hoping Friday night's Diesel/Fader happy hour has something this delicious.