holyshitiloveyou: Guess you thought you could just watch

I bumped into my neighbor on the street the other day and he invited me on an impromptu roadie to Boston with Nada Surf to see them perform with Metric at the House of Blues in Boston. I'd never been to Boston before. And I had no intention of ever really visiting it. But I kind of love Metric and it was a free invite and I wasn't doing anything better. So the choice was obvious.

We drove five hours in the afternoon, a straight shot from BK to Boston. Four of us, including A and myself, Daniel (the band's bassist) and this other dude. When we pulled into the lot next to the other bands' tour busses, there was an outdoor stage area with a crowd screaming for some rock band that was just ending.
Climbing out of the car and stretching my limbs, three or four dudes with asymmetrical hairdos and sweat-slicked clothes strutted around one of the tour buses, high-fiving each other. They looked very pleased with themselves as some crew members handed them towels and beers.
I decided/realized right then and there that I have nothing but overwhelming disdain and contempt for pretty much all dudes in rock bands. And since becoming a musician myself, that sentiment has evolved into something not unlike petty vengeance.

The guys in Nada Surf are all very nice actually. They're not a bad camp to be in. Upon entering the green room reserved for them and co., A scrambled to get his photo press badge and I took advantage of the chips and salsa at hand.
I was introduced/ greeted by a variety of people who are either friends/relatives of the band or someone from their label. Everyone in the room was at least 35-55 and dressed/acted their age. No dubious under-dressed groupie-types to speak of. Which I found to be kind of funny, I guess. Backstage at a rock show and no hos to speak of.
I realized, in my ripped up jean shorts (jorts!), pseudo-fluorescent tank top and booties that I must've been the one to fit that default bill.
A short woman with wiry mousy brown hair and a serious case of mom posture greeted A familiarly. She eyed me warily, asking him, "is she huggable?"

"Of course she's huggable!" A boomed in my direction, making an introduction. I felt a little bit more at ease.

Sitting on stage (in the very back rear right in front of the sound booth) during Metric's set was just something else entirely. Just. So. Amazing. I'm sure the folks who spied us from stage right were probably wondering who the hell we were and why we were sitting there.