It Wasn’t Meant To Be
Calexico at the Fonda Theatre. What better way to spend my Wednesday night?
Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be.
I had made plans with the Veggie Boyfriend the night before to go over the game plan: I’d pick him up between 7:15 and 7:30, and then we’d head over.
At 7:20, night of the show, I’m at the VBF’s house. I text him: “I’m here.”
Five minutes pass. I call him. Maybe he just got out of the shower and hasn’t bothered checking his phone. No answer.
Another five minutes pass. I text him: “Did you fall asleep?”
Another five minutes pass. I call him again. Same result as the last call.
Ten minutes pass. His neighbors must think I’m lurking. I call again; no answer. What. The. Fuck.
It’s almost 8:00PM. I don’t know how bad traffic will be if we don’t leave soon. I’m annoyed at this point. I call one more time, but there’s no answer.
At this point, I want to just go home and curl up in bed. But I also really want to see the band; the last time I saw them was at least three years ago. Plus it’ll be a crowd of indie peeps – I should be relatively safe in that crowd. And I’ve got Twitter to keep me company.
So I drive off, severely annoyed. Somewhere between the Westside and Mid-City, I go from being angry to a little worried: what if something happened? What if something bad happened?
I arrive at the Fonda, and the Santa Ana winds are starting to blow. It’s nothing serious, but it’s a little chilly. I get a drink at the bar and listen to the opening band. They finish a song, then stage goes dark, and small emergency lights come on. It takes me a minute to realize that the power has gone out in the theater, not a dramatic effect. The theater crew makes announcements from the stage with no megaphone (really, Fonda?). After nearly forty minutes of sitting in the dark, the show gets cancelled. Calexico comes out to play one song acoustically, with the promise of making it up later on.
It wasn’t the best night. One of my favorite bands couldn’t play, the wind had knocked out the power in the neighborhood, and I had a potential late-boyfriend. So I did what any girl in her right mind would do: I stopped by my local fast-food place, bought a chocolate malt, and drowned my sorrows in junk food.
P.S. The veggie boyfriend is alive and forgiven.