This is me

On the way out of the bus, we asked the bus driver where we should get BBQ, to which he replied, “Stubbs”.

As we drove up to the restaurant, we saw the fading Stubb’s sign lit up with the words “Gnarles Barkley”, so Mike and I decided to push BBQ back another day and we called Ryan to tell him to meet us at Stubbs for the show. Aside from the drunken guy to our left whose wife was noticeably embarrassed by him, the performance and energy of the crowd was superb, highlighted by a downtempo version of “Transformers” and a cover of Radiohead’s “Reckoner” to what Cee-Lo referred to as a “current classic”.

After the show ended, we found out that there was a VIP after party across the street, so what did we do? We tried to sneak in. My improvised bullshit was not flying with the girl at the door, so we momentarily gave up and decided to go to another bar.

Completely drained from sleep deprivation, poor diet, alcohol-induced dehydration, and my debilitating allergies, we decided to hit the sack early, but I needed a slice of pizza first. When Mike and I pushed the door open to eat our slices outside, Ryan was missing. “He does this shit all the time”, Mike told me.

Five minutes later, after multiple attempts on both our behalves to get a hold of Ryan, he texted Mike saying he was in the VIP party.

Mike and I walked back to the old, sloppily painted hipster-decorated white house where the party was being held, pausing periodically to ask ourselves how Ryan got in there. We walked up to a different person at the door than our previous attempt. Mike handed the doorman his ID, after which he scanned a huge list of names, briefly pausing to say, “There must have been a mistake. I see a Michelle McWilliams on the list. Sorry for that”, and he let Mike and I inside.

Completely baffled at what had just happened, we walked in anyway to get ourselves a fresh beverage and listened to CSS do a tag team DJ set. The rest of the night was filled with greeting Cee-Lo one-by-one, playing foosball, a smoke machine-laden living room dance party, and free Heinekens. Another thing, Wayne Coyne was at the party too and I didn’t even know it. Bullshit

All things considered, none of this would have ever happened if I had not needed a beer to go to sleep. I had no clue how the ACL After Party I planned was going to be top the previous night’s out of control festivities.

NOTE: Michelle McWilliams, if you’re out there, thanks a lot for having a similar name, being in the same city at same time as Mike, and being notable enough to be on the list or being friends with someone notable enough to be able to get you on the list. You’re the best!