I follow Kesha on Instagram because why wouldn’t I follow Kesha on Instagram, and as soon as she posted about the limited run, small venue tour she had spontaneously put together, my ticket-buying reflex went on HIGH ALERT. And like any good teenager, I was right there on the computer the moment tickets went on sale, because I wanted to see her perform reimagined versions of her songs with the CREEPIES as her backing band.
I mean, fuck yeah, right.
The show sold out in like a day so good thing I excel at this shit.
After eating dinner down the street at the Grant, Henry pulled up to Mr. Smalls to kick me to the curb while his mom screamed and I mean SCREAMED, “have a good time, sweetie!” while Chooch sarcastically cried, “bye MOMMY I love you!”
Chooch was also mad at me because he didn’t know I was going to see Kesha until that day and felt betrayed that he wasn’t invited to tag along.
Waited in a long line with a bunch of annoying people. Stood near the right side of the stage with a bunch of annoying people. Suffered through a super lame DJ set by DanceCRUSH (yawn) with a bunch of annoying people. I thought the girl member of DanceCRUSH had on a shirt that said CUNT on the back and I thought, “Wow, how progressive, maybe I like these people” but it turned out that it said “Climate” so she went back to being basic and actually her mannerisms and were fairly annoying so I had to stop looking at her and instead I focused on the crowd, the large majority of which was standing still, looking bored, because if this is what they wanted to stand through maybe they’d have gone to a high school dance.
But finally, Kesha and the Creepies took the stage at 9:15 and the couple dry-humping next to me finally moved over far enough that I no longer felt like I was in danger of contacting anything.
You guys at one point they kissed SO SLOPPILY that when their nasty lips finally broke the seal, numerous strings of sticky, slimy saliva kept their faces connected and it was like the most sexual hatching of Gremlins ever. I started burping up the beer I forced back earlier at Grant’s.
Meanwhile, there were these two glittered girls in front of me and we were coexisting harmoniously, screaming when Kesha came out, jumping around together, just being genuinely stoked and enjoying the show, when the boyfriend-girlfriend duo of DanceCRUSH emerged from backstage. The girl part of the duo came barrelling over, pushed me back into the wall, and forcefully hugged the two girls in front of me. And then proceeded to TALK TO THEM in a very annoying “I’M A REALLY COOL LOCAL DJ WHO PLAYS TOP 40 HITS ON MY LAPTOP DID YOU SEE ME UP THERE ON THAT STAGE PULLING FACES AND DABBING?” voice while her boyfriend apologized to me for blocking my view and moved over so his stupid hat wasn’t hitting my forehead.
So he gets a pass.
His girlfriend was a fucking grade A asshole though who, as a “performer,” should have more respect for keeping her faux-ghetto mouth shut while someone is on stage singing but what do I know.
Ugh, I just closed my eyes and saw her stupid face and her stupid fucking hair bun in my mind.
And it was funny because the girls in front of me were clearly trying to enjoy Kesha after they got the HI HOW ARE YOUs out of the way, but that fucking DJ douche just kept on running her mouth and her personality was so exaggerated and cartoonish, like she was created for a Parks and Recreation episode but then scrapped because she wasn’t funny enough.
So basically I missed “Dinosaur” in its entirety because of her inconsiderate jawing off and bun-bobbing but after a few minutes, she screamed, “BRB!!!!!!” to the girls and then walked back to the secret side stage door AND NEVER CAME BACK, SEE YA BITCH.
“Nothing bad is allowed inside these four walls. Not your ex-boyfriend, not my lawsuit—” and we all started screaming so loud that I’m not sure what she said after that.
She did mention her lawsuit a lot and I was extra glad that I got to be one of the people there supporting her in person because the whole situation makes me sick and even if I wasn’t already a Kesha fan, I would be hardpressed not to have her back. There was a lot of “Fuck the man” and “Free Kesha” chants throughout the night and it must have really made her feel great.
“I’m tired of people saying I can’t sing,” she said at one point, and I’m here to tell you that Kesha can SANG y’all.
What a fucking hot, sweaty party. After that idiot DJ went away, I decided that I loved everyone around me and it turned out to be one of the best solo shows I’ve attended so far. My throat hurt for two days from all the screaming and it was wonderful!
Kesha is an inspiration. She ended the night with “I Shall Be Released’ and it was really hard to keep the old eyes dry. I hope she never gives up and I hope that Dr. Luke eventually finds himself out of a career. I know that’s not likely because men get away with so much disgusting shit in the music industry, and in general. Oh, to be a privileged white man!
Speaking of privileged white men, when I left Mr. Small’s, Henry was nowhere to be found. Usually his Dad Game is strong and he’s sitting in the car on a darkened street, looking like the fucking Night Stalker, so that I can just jump right in and not have to stand on a corner with strangers.
I didn’t see him and I noticed that he hadn’t texted me his location, which is like Rule #1 in the Dad Handbook, so I called him THREE TIMES and he never answered. I called Chooch, who also didn’t answer. Finally, as I stood there in the dark, the rage brewing inside me, he called me back and gave me some shaky excuse about “traffic.” I snapped at him to hurry and as I hung up, I heard someone call out my name and it ended up being my friend Casandra whom I haven’t seen since like 2004! She recently moved back to Pittsburgh from LA and it was so nice to her familiar face again! She and her husband Steve waited with me and we spent that time catching up and kind of half-assedly waiting near Kesha’s bus with a small crowd while some dickhead guy sitting on the sidewalk kept trying to deter us.
“Do you guys really think she’s going to be here, in such an obvious spot? She’s going to be on the other side of the building,” he said in this lazy lilt that, along with his smudged eyeliner, totally rubbed me the wrong way.
When we continued to stand there and talk, he interrupted us AGAIN and said, “Seriously, I’ve been doing this for like five years and I’m telling you, she’s not going to come out here.”
OK GREAT, GUY! COOL STORY!
“Well, I’m waiting for my ride, and I’m going to just keep standing here anyway, so….” I said, turning my back on him and continuing my conversation with Casandra, so seriously STOP INTERRUPTING. Jesus Kesha, why are your fans such assholes?
Anyway, running into Casandra was like the cherry on top of a fantastic show — I’m glad that someone I know was also there and experienced the majesty that is Kesha and the Creepies!
The next day, I was talking to Chooch and he said, “Oh yeah, when I saw that you called me last night, I figured it was because the show was over so I went upstairs and woke up Daddy.”
THAT SON OF A BITCH WAS SLEEPING, THERE WAS NO “TRAFFIC.”
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