You Are All Shouting

I went to a show at a house the other night. One of the bands that played was really bad. It was a bunch of sixteen year old guys but they weren,t sixteen because they were in college and they lived there. They played music that their uncles would like. I bet all of their uncles keep a few burned CDs with their music on it on hand to show people. That seems right. They all wore ties while they played.

I think I was accidentally racist that night. The drummer of uncle,s favorite band talked to me for a minute and told me that he lived in one town as well as another and I responded with, ,,You,re mixed.,, I meant that he was mixed spatially which doesn,t make that much sense looking at it in writing right now. Whatever. After I said that he sat silent for a moment and responded, ,,I,m black and white so yes, I am mixed.,, He looked worried and confused at what I had said. I,m sure I looked the same when he replied. The guy was a maniac if he thought that I would bring up his racial background within the first twenty words of speaking to him.

So Stressed - Attracted To Open Mouths
Number one, I don,t care what his ancestors are/were. All that I cared about was his stupid, shiny red tie and dumb stretched earlobes.

Number two, you should never tell somebody that you,re mixed race. It gives away your weaknesses. What if I had a poison that only hurt people who were ,,black and white,,? He didn,t think of that. He should have.

My Death Cab For Cutie cover band played later and we bummed almost everybody out. Let,s just say we,re not your uncle,s Death Cab For Cutie cover band. I think some people were already getting upset before we even played anything. As soon as the first noise came from a speaker while we were still setting up I heard somebody say, ,,Whoa,, in a sad, disappointed tone and leave. It was a good show.