Cobra, FOB, and...some other people...in concert

[elucreh]

Skids came out from Nevada with a fellow librarian to join me, which was awesome. Skids is not afraid of being thought a dork at ALL, and she gives me courage. Of course, sometimes this backfires, as last night when she tried to spin me around and I fell ass over teakettle into a big burly man and his ten-yo little girl and nearly knocked them both down. But that was HYSTERICALLY FUNNY, so I'm pretty down with that, too. (No one was really injured, except for me, who hit her head on a wall, slightly twisted her ankle, and bruised her ass. Again, the laugh factor compensated.)

There were a lot of unfortunate ticket/parking shenanigans, so I missed Hey Monday and the first two Cobra songs. Yes, yes, I am bitter. I was curious to see the Mondays, and Cobra are basically the reason I bought the ticket...when I thought it was just FOB and some randoms I was wavering. Musically speaking, I like almost all of Cobra's stuff but only about a third of FOB.

ANYWAY.

So Gabe was WEARING HIS GLASSES ON STAGE, which made me a giddy little girl. And Victoria is rocking the short haircut, which pleased me immensely. Gabe kept making inside jokes referencing his own songs which only a few people in the audience got; I got to feel smugly superior to all the plebes. And they played "Pete Wentz is the Only Reason We're Famous"! Which made me unreasonably happy. It was lacking only two things to make it the perfect Cobra experience: "I Kissed a Boy" and a more responsive audience. I wanted to COMMUNE WITH THE COBRA, dammit! Which was hard to do through a huge crowd of people standing there pretending they were too cool for the opening bands.

(BONUS: Fourteen-yo Gabealike in purple and neon, with endearingly dorky braces. I love teenagers who aren't afraid to be enthusiastic about what they love!)

I actually liked a lot of music from the other openers--I might even track them down and listen to them properly--but my only real comment is that the lead singer for Metro Station bears a startling resemblance to Alex DeLeon. Like, I kept looking for Symphony Soldier across his ribcage. He has the sad straightironed hair thing, and the same stage mannerisms, and he kept doing that thing Singer does that makes me facepalm, where he pretends the audience actually know his songs and holds out the mike to them even though he has already done this three times with no response but awkward silence?

...naturally, I immediately thought he was adorable. BEING MADE OF FAIL IS THE SUREST WAY TO MY HEART, OKAY?

Of course, by the time FOB came on we were not only toward the back of the worst-packed crowd, but that ENTIRE CROWD had come to consist of people at least twice as tall as Pete. We retreated to the very back of the venue in order to be able to see, although mostly what we could see were tiny, tiny blurs. I could not tell what color Patrick's hat was. :-(

BUT! This is where Skids comes in handy. Not only was she dancing like a maniac in the back of the room where it was mostly bored parents, but she is tall with long red hair and a reasonable level of hot; somebody in the techs-and-connections balcony spotted her, came down, and invited her "and her friends" to come up and join them.

Skids being Skids, did not realise he was hitting on her, happily accepted, pulled us up with her, and then went at least fifteen yards away from the gentleman so as to have room to dance. Sometimes naivete works. (I have now forbidden her to EVER go to a concert or club alone. And I'm making her re-read the Not a Pretty Girl 'verse, because dude. She is just as likely to have said yes to following this guy anywhere he invited her by herself.)

Has Pete been telling his fish sticks story in every venue, or shall I repeat it?

He also informed us that last night, he watched Marley and Me for the first time. This was somehow related to the next song they were singing...I wasn't sure how, exactly. Pete's accent isn't nearly as strong in interviews, or maybe it was enhanced by crappy mikes or something, but I was only picking up about one word in three. Anyway, at the end of his little intro speech, he apologized for referencing a Jennifer Aniston movie, and I nearly died of the faildorable.

I fell in love with Joe Troh and his spinny ways, which were much more awesome than I had ever pictured. And Patrick's thighs are even more lickable in person, even at the opposite end of the venue. I may have actually gone weak in the knees when he pulled out the growly lower voice.

The End. (Unless I need to repeat the fish sticks thing.)



ETA: As per vixalicious, fish sticks: Pete told us about how he's a new dad, right, so he's trying to cut down on the swearing, and he has a swear jar, and every time he says a bad word on stage he has to put in a dollar. And then he takes the money, and he has to use it to buy fish sticks, and then he has to put them *dramatic pause* IN HIS MOUTH.

Because he hates fish sticks.

(DORKIEST DAD EVER, &HIM;)