Great DJ

My taste in music is different to say the least. Quite a few of my friends know I am currently involved in a love affair with The Ting Tings. Katie might not be the world's best singer. There might only be two people in their "band." But they make great music to which I cannot stop listening. I haven't been to a concert since I went to see Bobby Brown, Mary J, and TLC in 1993 (I fell asleep shortly after TLC performed), so live music was definitely in my plans this year. So when I saw on their MySpace page that they would be playing in Tallahassee March 31, my mind was already made up.

March 31 was Tuesday, and since the other two closers in my department have school on Tuesdays, I had work until 9 p.m. Club Downunder, where the Tings were to perform, opened its doors at 8:30, the concert started at 9:30, so more than likely, I was going to miss the concert due to work.

FUCK. THAT. SHIT.

I shut down that deli like I was late on the light bill, moving with quickness normally reserved for olympic runners and convenient store thieves. Although I normally leave work most nights after 9:15 p.m. most nights, I left W/D behind at exactly 8 p.m. Deciding me getting to the club on time was more important than me not smelling faintly like fried chicken, I skipped the shower, put on a button up and my new black shoes (I was very overdressed it seems), and hopped in Alberta.

On my way out of the complex, I saw a naked man running as fast as he could away from the house across the street, almost as though he had no business there. I'm not sure, but i think that naked man was forboding for the events to come. After parking and almost sprinting in the rain with an umb-buh-rella that I'm 87 percent sure is too small, I visually found out I'm not the only Ting Tings fan in the Tallahassee area. The line stretched around three or four corners and had more than about 400 people.

Praying to any god who'd answer, I silently called out for help getting inside. I was told there was only room for 350 people, and things were looking bleak. The line moved and moved, and right before I was to turn the last corner, a skinny, tattooed club worker told us they'd reached compacity although they were trying to fit in as many people as they could without the fire marshal knowing. I got five people away from the door when Skinny Tattoo Magee posted a sign that read "Absolutely No More Entries."

I was hurt, y'all, but since the doors were mostly glass, I stayed and watched my favorite band at the moment perform. I couldn't even properly hear them because Downunder kept the doors closed. But after the line dwindled down to about 30 people, many people left the club, endless pleading and flirting from the hot girls in front of me, and about 45 minutes, the bouncer let us in. All praises be to fat Buhdda, blue Krishna, long-haired white Jesus, and whomever the Hindus worship. I didn't get to hear all wanted to hear, but I damn sure heard "Shut Up and Let Me Go" and "That's Not My Name."

If a video of me at this concert ever makes it to YouTube, my family will be ashamed of me because I was rhythmlessly rocking out with my cock out (figuratively speaking). Below is a link to The Ting Tings performing "That's Not My Name" in Tallahassee. All you have to do is copy and paste it. Thank God I'm not in this video. Well not clearly in it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5YKeYfAyZ1Q

B.Rand