I hope I make it out of Edwardsville alive

We’re rounding out visit three to Edwardsville, Illinois, the small town outside of St. Louis where Sara lives. This visit has been exhausting, moreso than previous stops here. The ‘Ville social scene is a fucking hurricane. It’s a fairly small town, and everyone knows everyone, or at least it seems that way to me. They all go to the same bar. They all shop at the same places. I guess it’s not unlike Tucson in some ways, but moreso. It is virtually impossible to leave the house and not run into someone you know. So many introductions, goodbyes hugs, handshakes. It’s enough to make you, well, not want to leave the house. Still, it’s good to meet the girl’s friends, hang out with her mom and sister, and see where she came from. Even if it is pretty overwhelming.

There’s also a fair amount of drinking in this town, which suits me just fine, but with all the goodbye and celebration surrounding departure, it gets tiring even for a seasoned professional like me. Last night after the local bar closed we joined a group at a friend’s house, where drinking and smoking went on well after we went to bed at like 5 a.m. When we awoke, our host dragged Sara out to a bar to pick up to-go Bloody Marys and shots of Jagermeister. That’s right, to-go shots. My eyes were barely even open. I looked at Sara at one point and asked, “Are we getting out of Edwardsville alive?” She said, “By the skin of our teeth.” Not that it’s awful or anything, it’s just time to go.

Speaking of last night, I went to an Amy Ray concert with Sara, her mom, her sister and a few of their friends. Amy Ray, for non-lesbian mrchair readers, is one of the Indigo Girls. I don’t especially care for the Indigo Girls, but Amy Ray’s solo stuff’s pretty good. The venue was tiny too, so it was a fun show. Sara’s something of a superfan, so she was going f-ing berserk. It’s also worth noting that I was very likely the only straight male in the house, aside from bartenders and unlucky boyfriends. There may have been some others, but I’m pretty sure they were just really, really butch (which by the way, I’ve never understood. If you’re into women, love and celebrate women, have sex with and marry women instead of men, why the desire to look like a man? That may be insensitive, but I just don’t get it). While Amy Ray’s music is overall pretty positive, and even the most political songs stress tolerance as opposed to anti-male sentiment, there were times when I felt like a black dude at a Klan rally. Even Sara’s bisexual friend who went with us at one point said, “Man it’s so gay in here.”

There was this opening girl named, “Bitch,” who is a glaring Ani DiFranco ripoff, right down to her dreads and shaved sides. This bitch Bitch really annoyed the shit out of me. She did this awful spoken word/yelling songs with ridiculously long and pretentious interludes explaining what each song means. Examples: “This song is about sucky love and Virginia Woolf.” or “This song is all about how I’m sick of advertisements.” or “This song goes out to all the scrotum-toters.” or “You guys can buy my merchandise at the back table, but the best way you can support us is by limiting your smoking tonight.” or “Here’s another song about sucky love.” She actually had a song called “Pussy Manifesto.” (It goes, ‘Pussy manifesto, pussy manifesto, pussy pussy pussy manifesto’) Sara and I had to go upstairs and play Galaga during that one. Bitch also stood next to us during Amy Ray’s set, and she smelled disgusting.

I really hate that militant, man-hating shit. It’s sexism. I don’t care how many men are assholes, it’s no reason to lump them all together and sing music about how much they suck. I mean there’s a lot of asshole women out there too. To me, it’s the same as Snoop Dogg saying “Bitches ain’t shit but hos and tricks.” I mean you can express yourself however you want, and music is music, but it’s not a great way to bridge the gap between the genders. That and her music was fucking terrible. If I had a lot of money, I’d have bought all of her CDs and merchandise and thrown them in the trash right in front of her.

So anyway, that was my lesbian adventure. Actually not totally. During the show, Sara’s friend was so wasted that she had to go out to the car with her ladyfriend. Later we caught up with them and there were two cops by the car. We weren’t smashed, but we both would have blown above the limit. We had to pace around the parking lot forever waiting for them to leave. Turns out she got a public urination ticket. We drove off terrified of being pulled over, got lost, and made it to the bar just before last call in time to hang out with, you guessed it, the entire population of Edwardsville.

As you can imagine, I was hungover today. We’re leaving Monday or Tuesday (my fingers are crossed vigorously for Monday) and off to Denver to hang out with Face. Can’t wait. I miss Denver and Face and Colfax and my precious air mattress. We’re gonna have fun.

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2 Responses to

  1. catfishvegas says:

    Pussy Manifesto – great blog title

  2. catfishvegas says:

    And next time you call something a “lesbian adventure,” please make sure it lives up to that billing

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