Rednecks on a Train - Part Deux

Well, Blogger has decided that pics aren't necessary for this entry, so on we go...sans pics.

I strolled out to my car today and spotted something black on the floor of the backseat. As I bent over for closer inspection, I realized the object on the floor was my bra. Suddenly, the events of the night before came rushing back to me. Most strapless bras contain rubber around the edges to prevent accident slippage and runaway breast syndrome (where the little buggers jump ship and prepare to flee). After 8 hours confined in this contraption, I was dying to remove it. And did so....at a traffic light....in the middle of downtown Atlanta...much to the amusement of the man in the car next to me. His wife wasn't quite so amused. As Gary eluded previously, I stated I made it home safely. I did not state that all my clothes made it home in the same manner.

The ride on MARTA was actually fun. One word of caution: subway trains sway side to side during travel...kind of like a boat in rough seas...which was not really conducive to traveling with a bunch of drunks. Micki and I were fine as our buzz had worn off by then. However, the inebriation of the man in front of me was given away by his extremely bloodshot, half open eyes and his slow but comical reaction to the train's movements. I knew his eyes were bloodshot and half-open because he kept staring at me, unsuccessfully attempting to pull off that "how you doin" look while mumbling to himself. As we came to his stop he started to make that vurp gesture. You know...the kind where you're not sure if you're going to blow chunks or just burp? I'm just thankful he stumbled off the train before we got to see the finale.

We ate at the CNN center, which was sort of like a mall food court with access to the arena. I do have one question. This place has like 140 TVs all showing different CNN clips. I can understand why the volume isn't on but can someone explain why there were no subtitles or closed captioning? It would have been nice to understand what was being reported. {insert your own joke about media coverage here, I'm still to tired to be that witty} And they were selling 32 oz. beers for $5...what a bargain!!! Unfortunately, you can't take the cheap beer into the arena so we stood by the door still trying to down about 16 oz. of beer. Redneck rule #678 - They ain't no wasting no beer.

The concert was fan-tab-ulous. I've decided I need to download (legally, of course, Mr. FBI man) Dierks Bentley's CD. I didn't realize how many songs of his I knew...and liked. Kenny was like a mosquito on acid...I've never seen one person jump around so much. He sounded great and looked even better. I have a soft spot for singer/songwriters because of the passion displayed in their music. Plus, Kenny's about my age and never been married either (it doesn't count unless it lasts more than 2 months) so I identify with him and his I-want-to-settle-down-but-I'm-not-settling style of music. I'm pretty sure the many beers I consumed during the concert helped my singing voice as I appeared to be able to sing all the words to all the songs and scream "woooohooooo" at the top of my lungs without being told to shut up by the people around me. Of that, I must say I am proud! Fate did smile on me in the form of Uncle Kracker's appearance for about a half-hour set. I love that man's voice. I wish someone would give him a new recording contract.

This post has grown long enough....more about drunk teens, fake hooters, and daisy dukes later.