First off, if there is a super sweet girl named Britt reading this, well the YYY’s is for you
Can we meet again
Meet and meet and meet and meet again
Can you fill the can
If you can feel me
Oh Eh Oh, Chromeo! Oh Eh oh, Chromeo! Fuck that ho, its Chromeo!
This is what I sung to my friend, who was in a tender embrace as Chromeo was about to take the stage. He didn’t hear, but it didn’t matter, a super-tough, top-gun, security agent had taken matters into his own hands, and tossed the girl out of the venue for being too drunk to put her flip flops back on ( a la drunk guy at Coachella, see clip).
This set up a nice little predicament where he had to make a choice of following the girl, who may or may not had throw up stains on her shirt, out of the venue or staying in. I think we all know the proper answer to this question, but is was articulated very well by a Jennifer I know who said, “Fuck that girl! You don’t know that girl! Its Chromeo!”
And then BAM! Dave-1 and P-Thugg hit the crowd with the ElectroFunk that sends a shiver down your timber, the ants in you pants, the jones in you bones. The show was bonafide. And that’s’ all I’m going to say about that, I’m not a concert reviewer. In fact, I generally deplore concert reviewers. Especially, when they are describing a show to me, with great enthusiasm, but not saying anything of substance:
That show changed my life.
What!? Really? How?
It was just so amazing!
Ahh what was amazing?
Just everything, I mean it was just amazing.
I see, so like did you close your eyes and see colors and vibration on love?
Amazing! So what else was amazing?
I mean well the people and the music were really amazing
It was A-MAZ-ING!
So yeah, back to the night–the concert is over and I’m drunk out of my sneakers from the massive shots of Grey Goose the bartender was pouring, walking down Colfax with a lady on each arm, who don‘t even know each other but have both figured out they speak French and our communicating with each other. I really don’t know how this happened, but it did, and my friend is trying to get my attention because well, one is a faux lesbian with a faux hawk and the other is a super indie nerd with a penchant for aggressive crouch grabbing, which could be considered assault. Proof of the crotch grabber:
Friend 1: Dude, those OTHER chicks invited us to an after party.
Me: (singing Chromeo) Every time I’m walking down the street I’m turning around hoping my lady is following me.
Friend 1: Fuck, you’re drunk.
Girl 1: (grabbing my ass) I could ASSassinate you right now!
Me: You would fail.
Girl 2: Do you remember me?
Me: Remember you?
Girl 2: I smiled at you at Crystal Castles.
Girl 2: Tell me about yourself.
Me: Like what?
Girl 2: Like everything.
Me: (singing Chromeo) You’re a needy girl, I can tell when I look at your big brown eyes.
Girl 1: (grabbing me) You have an amazing dick, I am not intimidated by it at all.
Me: What!? Well what you were feeling was my belt, and its in the shape of a gun. So I think that’s pretty intimidating if you ask me.
Just then my friend comes up to me and whispers the code word which we have for situations like this, and it basically means “get it together.” So I take a step back and do my best to sober up. When I come back they have my friend aggressively cornered.
Girl 2: (to my friend) Why won’t you have sex with me?
Friend 1: I have a girlfriend.
Girl 2: (to my other friend) What about you?
Friend 2: I have a fiancé.
Girl 2: What about you?
Me: I have a wife.
Girl 2: You guys fucking suck!