Last night Harry and I headed to the Big Sandy Arena to see Jeff
Dunham, the comedian. After circling the Arena we finally found a parking space in three feet of standing water in front of the Courthouse. Whee - and stuff. Good thing I wasn't trying to be all cute-like and stuff.
Finally we make it to the Arena and find our seats which were in the front row of the side section. No sooner had we sat down then a family straight out of a Rob Zombie movie filled in the row behind us.
"I am the TICKETMASTER! Didn't I do good - huh? Didn't I?" the young woman behind me yelled to the person sitting next to her and then immediately started hacking. I feared her phlegm would curl the back of my hair worse than the rain and puddles I just braved to get to my seats.
"You did good, baby," her one-legged boyfriend sat down behind me and apparently his one good leg was not working that well either as he seemed incapable of not kicking the back of my grey plastic chair.
For thirty minutes I endured being jostled and spittled on and somehow managed not to turn around and throw my pizza at them when they began, simultaneously, reading all the jokes from the jumbotron and making up their own punchlines. The one-legged boyfriend began regaling his redneck future bride on stories of "when I'm a famous comedian."
Then I heard the sweetest sound ever.
"I'm sorry - but you're in our seats," I turned slightly to see a young couple talking to Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum.
"The tickets say 'Row Zero'," the one-legged man tried to explain to the couple trying to take his seats.
"This is Row K."
"But my tickets say Row Zero."
"Well, I believe that that is Row O. Not zero."
"Where's 'at at?"
"This is Row K," I could hear the man trying to explain it as simply as possible, "so Row O will be a few more rows up."
I tried not to laugh but the new couple sat down and said "Where's Row Zero?" and I just lost it.
Here is a grainy photo of Jeff and his massive t-shirt shooting gun (it actually lit up) taken from my Iphone: