It seems like there's always some guy - one person - at any music event whose gotta wear the lampshade. After long years of alchohol or maybe just attitude abuse, he's gotta prove it's more fun to be an asshole than an audience member. Not satisfied with singing or tapping along, he's gonna holler. You can see it coming. There he goes! --Right up to the band, screaming requests in a drunken garble. Downtown it's always the same guy, although I've seen him wear different bodies. Always some washed up middle aged white guy who can't shut up. The band is wincing. He's standing back by the bar critiquing between songs at the top of his lungs. When he's not torturing the band he's got some spaced-out garbage philosophy he's trying to spew at anyone who mistakenly attempts to cool him out by making eye contact. He thinks he's really heavy. He's full of crap.
On the Corner, it's some little puke who thinks he's hot because he wears chaps and plunks his motorcycle helmet right in the middle of the bar. He takes up three people's worth of space and won't give an inch. When asked what he's riding, he cooly responds "My lawnmower." Nice! Give you 20 bucks to do my yard, asshole. The guy never even turns to look at the band. I guess you've gotta respect the ultra-cool demeanor, but at the same time, you just wanna see him fall off his lawnmower.
Charlottesville's got it's share of oddballs. May they never destroy another peaceful duck's revelry.
--Cripsy Duck
