Tequila ate my homework

Today I’m posting at you live (almost) from Los Angeles! So, if I’m not around to comment a ton it’s probably because I’m either a) schmoozing with network execs to get my latest show on TV, or b) doing something really touristy and taking lots of pictures of it which I will post on the blog next week. :) But in the meantime… let me tell you the sad tale of why I did not met my page count last week.

Last week Mr. Big got a nice contract at work, so we decided to go out to celebrate. It being a weekday (and me wanting to make some headway on my latest book), I really didn’t want to be out too late. He suggested a movie, so I checked online for one that a) did start too late and b) wasn’t too long. Found one that would get me home before midnight. Perfect.

Only Big calls me back all excited that he just saw a musician he likes is playing tonight over in Santa Cruz. Wanna do that instead? I’m looking at the clock. The concert starts at 9, even with travel time, I might still be home by 12:30. A little late… but it sounds like fun, so I’m in.

I think I may have mentioned before on this blog how freaky the town of Santa Cruz is. Remember the restaurant with the cooks who all wore hot pink wigs and sang? That was in Santa Cruz. And it’s pretty typical. It’s an eclectic little beach town where hippies mingle with Goths who mingle with punks in leather and spikes who mingle with yuppies in their weekend Birkenstocks. It’s a fun place. Perfect for a concert.

So, we drive over the hill and get there a few minutes early. The place we’re going is actually pretty small as concert venues go. More of nightclub than a stadium. Standing outside are a pair of ladies in leather pants and fur crop tops (Seriously? I didn’t even know they made those in fur!), two guys in waist long dreds, and a handful of teenagers smoking dope. This is going to be an experience, I can feel it already.

We get the tickets, then go across the street to this restaurant to order a little something to eat before the show. We sit at the bar and Mr. Big immediately orders beers and tequila shots.

Tequila shots. On a Wednesday. My first thought is that I need to write ten pages in the morning – I cannot do shots. But, as Mr. Big pointed out, it is a rock concert. What’s one shot? So, I down it. (Yeah, I'm really hard to convince.) My new plan, I drag myself to Starbucks and down lattes as I write in the morning. Caffeine cancels out tequila, right? No worries, I’ll still get my homework done.

So, we have our couple drinks, get nice and happy, then go back to the club for the concert. Where the guy at the door checks my ID and give me not one, but two huge wrists stamps. Even though I know I’m totally going to have to wear long sleeves to hide the club whore stamps from the soccer moms when I take the kid to school tomorrow, I’m getting a kick out of it.

Mr. Big orders us a couple more drinks (for anyone keeping track, that’s four a piece now) and I only get a chance to take one sip before some big guy wearing a Jason mask (Isn’t Halloween over?) bumps into me and spills it all over my sleeve. Yeah, it’s that kind of concert. The good news? Mr. Big immediately steps in and puts a protective arm around me. And it stays there the entire night. (Have I mentioned how much I like this guy?)

Once the music starts, the crowd goes totally wild - screaming, yelling, dancing, doing that devil horn thing with their fingers and pounding their fists into the air. It was so loud the floors and walls were vibrating with the noise. (Bonus foot massage!) But I knew it was a good concert when halfway through we saw security grab the guy in front of us and search him for illegal substances. When they found some, they said, “Just smoke it discreetly.” Ha! (Even though I was trying to take really shallow breaths, I swear when we moved to the upper balcony level I was getting a contact high from all the ‘discrete’ smokers.)

A few hours and a few drinks later we stumbled home, I slunk into bed way later than I intended (though, I’m pretty sure the sun wasn’t up yet… pretty sure…) and pulled the covers over my head. Until the kid woke me up two hours later making me take him to school. I tried to get him to let me sleep in, saying he could take a ‘vacation day’ from school, but no such luck. He insisted on being driven to school. On time even. (How I got such a responsible kid, I have no idea.) So, I dragged myself out of bed and drove him to school (I even fed him first. I think I get mom points for that.), then staggered home again and promptly fell back into bed.

Drinks: 6
Club Whore stamps: 2
Pages written: 0
Night of rocking until dawn: Priceless


~Trigger (and Tequila) Happy Halliday