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Wednesday, September 5, 2007

V.I.P. Steve ...



... my family and I spent Labor Day at the California State Fair. We brought our own grapes. Some of them were sour. Bela can vouch for that.


We had originally gone to the fair so that we could see Weird Al in concert. I've been a big fan of his ever since I was a kid. His music was the first music that I could honestly say I was a big fan of. I remember being eight years old and liking Weird Al and the Beatles. And Anthrax's "Among The Living" album. My musical tastes were strange even back then.


So they sell really nice floor seats for the concerts in advance. But they almost always never sell out, so we had heard that they give out the remaining free tickets the day of the show starting at four. The sign, which we had seen a few days before, said that the line for the tickets doesn't start until three-thirty. And I really wanted to see Weird Al, so at three we made our way to the sign and, because this is California, there was a massive line already there.


So we gave up on seeing Weird Al. I played brave super daddy and said that I didn't care but deep down inside I was really pissed off and hurt and upset that we wouldn't get to see him.




Then, later in the day when the kids were riding rides, Natasha went off to do something, I don't remember what. While she was out, no doubt the results of her amazing triple H breasts, someone asked her if she liked Weird Al. She said yes and this dude just up and handed her a ticket. One ticket. Can you believe that? She says it's because of her good karma. I believe her because lord knows my karma's in the crapper. She gave the ticket to me and at around six that night I went to the venue to get me a seat.


I went thru the main entrance with the ticket takers barely paying any attention to me. I checked out the merch I couldn't afford and spent a few minutes looking at all the nasty fat people who had already gotten a seat. I decided I would spend my ten bucks in a beer or maybe some kick ass garlic fries so I walked to the exit and was stopped by security. They looked at my ticket, confused. They told me I was at the wrong place. I had a V.I.P. ticket and I needed to wait in the other line at the side of the venue.




I waited for a half hour in a line surrounded by drunk college guys with baseball caps and collars up and really expensive cell phones. One of the guys started talking with me. He was so drunk that when he asked me my name I told him it was Pedro. He almost bought me a luchador mask. I'm nervous because I have no idea where I'm at or if I'll get a seat or what.


The next thing I know I'm escorted into a private V.I.P. dinner. The ticket Natasha got was a special ticket reserved for exclusive fair sponsors. The area is a nice, shady and fully catered patio area located above the general seating and right next to the fair stage. Literally, Weird Al was just a pebble's throw away. I got my own table all to my myself right next to the railing overlooking the fat dumpy people with the free tickets. And I was served dinner, too. I ate my massive fill of steak and stir fry and steak and broccoli and steak and ice cream and all the soda that I could drink. The cook even cut me a big tasty chunk of grizzle. I mean, sure I'm surrounded by rich white yuppies who seem a bit concerned by the sweaty mexican with the wife beater on but I didn't care. I was V.I.P Steve. It was totally awesome.


It was so awesome, going from being pissed off that I wasn't going to get to see Weird Al to getting seated at a free V.I.P dinner, that I ACTUALLY HAD A CIGARETTE on their smoking area right next to the lake area. I haven't had a smoke for damned if I know. I sat there chatting up two tall tattooed busty models of some sort and looking behind my back constantly to make sure my kids didn't see me. I also got two free drinks for their ample bar. I got a large strong white russian first (for "The Dude" in Los Angeles) and a really HARD Jack and Coke next. I told the bartender "I'd hella tip you if I wasn't broke ass" and he seemed to respond to that because he ended up giving me four large beers for free after that. The amount of alcohol I drank that day would have knocked me out if it wasn't for the massive levels of adrenalin pumping through my body.


I sat there in the V.I.P. section watching Weird Al and getting totally drunk for free, the whole time smiling and wondering how fucking cool I must have looked, that stupid drunk grin on my face as I watched Weird Al in the V.I.P. section.


That's V.I.P. Steve. There's Reverend Steve the founder of The Church of Ed Wood, Mr. Steve the semi-famous storyteller of Barnes and Noble store 1996, there's Daddy Steve the father, Sexy Steve the Natasha-fucker, and Esteban the son of Teresa and Jose Galindo Sr.


V.I.P. Steve doesn't come out to play a lot. It's good to see him again.




I've got to go now. We're going to get our free corporate memberships to California Family Fitness.


V.I.P. Steve.

2 comments:

johnmc. said...

Allow me to fill in the missing part - Natasha and I were on our way over to get a $5 off voucher for a wristband for Patrick by showing some people at a folding table that we were able to pick a Dasani bottle off the ground. In truth, Natasha picked the bottle off the ground because I was so damn tired after being at work for 11 hours, starting at 4am, to remember to grab an empty Coca-Cola company can/bottle from my car (Wood knows I have enough - my car is filthy on the inside) before going into the fair.

Gregorio said...

This is the greatest story ever. Whenever you think your life is shitty, always look back on this amazing day, this incredible stroke of awesomeness. Hooray!!