There's something I've always wanted to do ever since I fell in love with the idea of Penny Lane and discovered the wonders of the Rolling Stones when I was a teenager.
I've wanted to party with the band.
I wanted to be in the middle of a crowded room, covered in smoke and stale beer; I wanted to drape a hand over a sexy rockstar that was possibly too old for me; I wanted to be a bohemian girl with a rockstar boyfriend (for the night) and dance to his acoustic guitar. I wanted that and so much more.
You've heard of the Riot House, right?
So the dream came true late last week, but the band was nothing close to the likes of Jagger or McCartney. It was a much smaller SoCal band, just recently signed with Atlantic, which I vaguely remember congratulating them on. I drunkly and skillfully held a stimulating conversation with one of the (cuter) guys in the band about all our favorite bands, bonding over the Kings of Leon. Might I mention that he had a cute Southern accent that I mocked for a good half hour? I also remember a walk down the street, to the local Albertson's for a beer run. There was a banjo involved. Yes, a fucking out-of-tune banjo. The big guy - I think the bassist of the band - held the banjo to his chest and sang old WWII songs that his grandpa shared with him.
It was sickeningly stereotypical of all things you imagine at an after party with the band. Plus a few frat guys and a few games of beer pong.
So the next time you have the chance to hang with the boys you danced to on stage, I highly recommend it. In fact, I encourage it. It's a good time. Free booze? Maybe you'll have a random boy show up at the party with a guitar and sing Death Cab songs with you too. Only if you're lucky though.
I've wanted to party with the band.
I wanted to be in the middle of a crowded room, covered in smoke and stale beer; I wanted to drape a hand over a sexy rockstar that was possibly too old for me; I wanted to be a bohemian girl with a rockstar boyfriend (for the night) and dance to his acoustic guitar. I wanted that and so much more.
You've heard of the Riot House, right?
So the dream came true late last week, but the band was nothing close to the likes of Jagger or McCartney. It was a much smaller SoCal band, just recently signed with Atlantic, which I vaguely remember congratulating them on. I drunkly and skillfully held a stimulating conversation with one of the (cuter) guys in the band about all our favorite bands, bonding over the Kings of Leon. Might I mention that he had a cute Southern accent that I mocked for a good half hour? I also remember a walk down the street, to the local Albertson's for a beer run. There was a banjo involved. Yes, a fucking out-of-tune banjo. The big guy - I think the bassist of the band - held the banjo to his chest and sang old WWII songs that his grandpa shared with him.
It was sickeningly stereotypical of all things you imagine at an after party with the band. Plus a few frat guys and a few games of beer pong.
So the next time you have the chance to hang with the boys you danced to on stage, I highly recommend it. In fact, I encourage it. It's a good time. Free booze? Maybe you'll have a random boy show up at the party with a guitar and sing Death Cab songs with you too. Only if you're lucky though.
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