so close yet so far

In another reality, I have cashed in some favor I didn't really need and dragged someone along with me to Myrtle Beach and made a mini vacation of it. I'd be counting the hours til I saw a band I actually wanted to spend my hard earned money on and in the mean time, I'd be buying useless crap. Or sleeping in. Or something totally insane. There'd be photographic evidence of all this, but you'd never see it, as I'm camera shy.

Instead I'm counting the seconds until I have to go pass out so I can go to work tonight, right about the time the band takes the stage. :p

I loathe the fact that with a few exceptions, the only place most bands/artists will deign to visit on their concert tours is the HOB in Myrtle Beach. I know SC is a little slice of hell, but Christ on a frickin' cracker, do you have to hold it against everyone who lives here that we're stuck in Hades? If you took out all the truly vexing people, the place is relatively pretty. Well, you also shouldn't inhale, because the marshlands smell awful. And no, I got nothing in the way of alternate venues. That's what professionals are for.

Want to know how to annoy the piss out of me when I'm at work? Sure you do.
- Take the time to count out your precious money and then throw it on the counter. Seriously, if I ever decide to quit, I'm going to spend the last night throwing people's change at them when they do that. My hand is right there. Put the damn money there. If the guy with two fingers can manage this little trick, so can you.

... I forget the others. They exist, but I'm tired.


He needs a name, dammit.

*falls asleep*