It seems fate is laughing at me. Again.
I was supposed to be headed to the Van's Warped Tour this coming June. You see, Warped Tour is coming to my hometown of San Antonio, Texas June 14. I have my tickets. I have my parking pass. My gas tank is being kept topped-off. I've been preparing for this for months, as soon as I heard Motionless In White would be taking the main stage. I've ordered contact lenses and even have an outfit picked out. There's just one tiny problem.
It seems that, without a concert buddy, I can't go.
You see I've never really been one to hit the metal scene alone. I'm about five feet tall. I weigh, usually, less than a hundred pounds. I become a human football in a mosh pit, or I would if I dared get close enough alone. I used to take my friend Jeremy, but these days he's a married man. His wife is not a metal head. I used to take my friend Bobby, but my boyfriend has a problem with me going with another dude. My boyfriend was going with me, but was denied his request off for no better reason than someone closer to the manager had beaten him to it.
So, needless to say, I have two tickets to Warped Tour to see one of the best metal bands in years that I might have to flush the toilet on. Not literally. I would, of course, try to sell the tickets, but that isn't at all what I want to do.
I want to go to the show; I want to see Motionless in White, and I want to be close enough to be hurled at Ricky Horror like debris. Well hai, Ricky!
Unfortunately, that doesn't seem likely. I have never done this alone, and going to the AT&T Center on the South Side of San Antonio alone isn't a good idea at all. Call me a pussy if you want, I defy anyone to. But even a pussy like me has the sense to know when she's out of her element.
The prognosis is that if I can find someone, anyone--even my mom (not likely)--to go with me, then Warped Tour is still on. If not, I've been promised that it will be made up to me. In light of how excited I was to see this show, it's cold comfort, and does little to appease me. I've been a wreck all day. I stay pretty close to tears, my only respite coming from a chocolate croissant and the occasional glimpse of Tom Hiddleston on Twitter. And the day when the Hiddles can't cheer me up is a terrible day indeed.
I will try my best. The Rocky Road to Warped Tour winds on.