Just arose from my Indigo Girls-induced coma. Experienced after shooting them for the paper, following a political event documented for the college hosting both politicians and then the set by the Boring Duo. Felt bad for a weeping lezbo who needed a ticket and, having one comp to spare, handed her one - sans thanks. In venue met up with a boy colleague whose wife was sitting in the way-back. Told him he could take my one remaining good ticket and then as I was crossing, pre-Indigo Snoozes, to other side of the room I see aforementioned lezbo squatting down between a woman's legs in the front row. Do you still need that comp I gave you? I glared. She then proceeded to pull four tix scammed from other kindhearteds so I asked for the comp back and gave it to the boy colleague.
Lesson: before handing over a good comp ticket to a weeping woman, flip her upside down and shake vigorously to see if other tickets flutter from her various pockets.
Last night, post glorious and wine-drenched art opening event featuring Yours Truly et al, popped into Gene Loves Jezebel and they were actually good. Stage was rimmed with boys and girls singing the words, one a girlie pal who has enjoyed the physical comforts of the lead singer, Michael. He caught us front row chatting about him and gave us the raised eyebrow. He might be onstage, he might be wearing leather pants, he might be in the spotlight basking in adulation, but he wants to know what's being said about him in row #1 - his women-dependent lifeforce pinpoint accurate.