We Don't Need No Stinking Badges
I am doing a picture story for this long winded blog. Let me start by letting you know that I do not really like concerts. I also do not like country (folk is worse). There may be a country song or two that I like, but as a whole not my thing.
Brad on the other hand absolutely LOVES concerts and although country music is not his favorite, he has an appreciation for the music and has a few artists he enjoys. So off to The Summit in Denver to listen/watch Jamye Johnson.
We stayed at The Maven Hotel which was awesome. See the Streamline in the lobby? That is where we got our free cocktail ... we were off to a good start. I threw a picture of Brad sitting in the lobby because he is so cute.
We headed to Seven Grand which is a mighty fine whiskey bar. The bouncer met us at the door and asked for our IDs. Brad showed his and as I went to
get my ID, he gently touched my shoulder and said he really was not worried about it. WHAT? I get annoyed when I get carded, but I get even more annoyed when I am told that I am too old to card.
We grabbed a bite at Pony Up and headed to the concert. The Summit doors were closed and there was a line a mile long so we headed to Falling Rock Tap House for a beer. As Brad went to the bar to get us a cool, wet one, I was in charge of finding us a table. I see 4 very OLD and not particularly handsome men who started to get up from their table. I made a B line towards the table when one old man said to me, "Did you want our table" which I replied yes if you are leaving. He sat back down, patted his lap and told me to come sit on his lap. I assured him that would never happen. Does this ever work for him? I was starting to feel a shift in the night and not a good one.
We finally made it into the concert hall. I chatted up the women in front of me. Say hi to the brunette woman in my photos who became my biggest fan and defender. We were listening to the music when the security lady taps me on the shoulder to tell me she received complaints from the girl behind me that I was drunk and belligerent (my word and not hers because I am fairly positive that word would be too big for her limited vocabulary). Brad and I assured her that I was not drinking nor misbehaving. The woman security grabbed my hands ripped off my bracelet that says I am over 21, which should not be a problem since nobody is carding me anyways, and then she places an X on each of my sun spotted, wrinkled hands. I immediately thought OMG, I have to go work with these markings and publicly declare I am a drunk - seriously. I have never in my soon to be 58 years been X'd. My friend Jodie who is more familiar with these situations, confirmed I was 86'd. I get a hold of myself, turned back around to enjoy the concert. Next thing I know the girl behind me starts to push me and yell in my ear - I cannot make this shit up. The most remarkable part of this story is that I stayed calm and did not go all ghetto on her. Back comes the security lady with another security guy telling me they received complaints that I was threatening the girl behind me and I was going to be thrown out of the venue! I was thinking the security lady was a honest to God mind reader because I so desperately wanted to pummel the girl behind me. I could feel me going to the dark ghetto side and then my new brunette friend showed me how it was done. She went all crazy on security telling them I did nothing and how things were going to go. Honestly I do not think she is someone you mess with and either did security. The security man suggested we move closer to Jamye Johnson.
We left the concert and went back to our hotel to finish the night at the Poka Lola Social Club. There was no security/bouncer and with my 86'd hands, the bartender made me an Old Fashion.