Last Tuesday (the 30th of August), I went to see Buddy Guy & B.B. King in concert at Constitution Hall down in Washington, D.C. Before I get into any specifics about the show, I’m going to just run down the journey.
Traffic was a bitch, with everyone (no cars ahead of them, just being douches) driving 30 in a 40… as I made my way to meet my mom at her work in Rockville. Turning out of the parking lot from her work when I picked her up, a SUV jumped over from the left lane and cut off a truck which was flying… somehow the guy driving the truck had pretty fucking awesome brakes, and the sack of shit driving the SUV drove by with a smile on his face, laughing. I don’t know about the rest of you, but if I’m in a near-accident… especially one where a truck was speeding like in this instance, my last reaction is to grin and laugh… I’d be as transparent as a ghost, hyperventilating, and soiling myself.
Then I make my way to Rockville Metro Station, and I’ve got a left turn at the light, which I take as the bus coming head-on was turning left as well. Sure enough, some fucking twat jumps out from behind the bus into the other lane and almost destroys my car… to make matters worse (for him), HE was running a red-light going straight.
The trip down on the Metro was standard, and by standard I mean bizarre as fuck. There was the usual pervert seated on the train who stared at any female who boarded the train, and I mean stared, and I mean ANY FEMALE. He caught me catching him staring at a few of them (yes, a few) and every time shrugged away into a ball of shame behind his newspaper. He even pulled the “oh the train stopped” move in order to feel up on one girl… she was gullible enough to believe he actually lost his balance.
But even more disturbing was the vile creature sitting in front of me. She had one of those hairy moles… but it wasn’t one of the round moles… it was a long, stretched, 4 inch caterpillar... RIGHT ON THE SIDE OF HER FACE! And it was hairier than Rick Ross’ chin… it looked like pro-wrestler George “The Animal” Steele’s back. Luckily she was facing the other way so I didn’t have to see it… but the back of her neck had two open sores… boils... which weren’t scabbed over yet. I wanted to vomit so badly it felt like I had heartburn. My shirt covered my nose and mouth, and I was curled up as far back against my seat as my skeletal frame would allow. Surely I looked like the freak in that instance to anyone watching… but I wasn’t going to contract whatever made those boils for fear that they contributed to the nuclear-exposed mole on her cheek.
But enough of that… the focus is the show… and it was an incredible show to say the absolute least. Buddy Guy opened, and he played that guitar like one of the world’s greatest ultimately should. During his second song, he snapped his low E-string, yanked it out, and beat the other strings with it to play his solo and kicked ass… all while freestyling a song on the spot about breaking his string. He then proceeded to throw down for the rest of his set… at one point wailing out a solo using a drumstick as a pick and then repeating the string-fiasco, only with a towel.
After the intermission, B.B. King set up and he strummed his guitar with a couple nice solos, danced around in his seat, interacted with fans, took a number from some young lady in the front row (young enough to be his great-great-grandchild) and rocked it with a variety of blues, soul, funk, and gospel. At 85, he’s still WRITING songs, and he performed a helluva set.
The trip back was rather uneventful aside from this drunk hoe who claimed she was a 10-year makeup artist for MSNBC flirting with this guy… he asked for her number, she responded “I don’t give out my number to people I JUST MET.” He eventually took her phone and put his number in it… and she made out with him for 4 minutes to end his trip… yeah… we believe her about the not giving out the number, lmao.
Needless to say, it was a great show, and an interesting day…