Wrist Bands, what?

Someone needs to inform me that if you want to go to an in-store performance at Tower Records, you need to get a wrist-band DAYS in advance. How would I know? Apparently for Jack Johnson, you do.

Last time I went to an in-store was for Ben Kweller, I got there an hour before hand, waited in line outside and was a foot from the stage for his performance.

(P.S. My roommate has three braids in her hair right now. Slight side note. What possessed her? She does not know. She apparently is working for Satan. "I am," she claims.)

Back to the story. So Liz and I trekked out, once again in the frickin snow. This time it was worse. It hurt. I met her at the Bleeker street subway and it was only nine, so we figured we'd get a couple pints at our favorite bar, Swift (a block away from Tower Records.) For the record, favorite beer - Magic Hat #9. In case you cared.

Ten PM came around (Jack Johnson was on at 10:30, apparently) and we headed back into the snow and noticed a line. Who were all these crazy people who went out in a snow storm to stand outside? Well, apparently those who had wrist bands. Did we had wrist bands? Absolutely not. This was all news to me. So I went inside and put on my charm. Apparently I'm not that charming. It was "sold-out" and "unless you had a wrist-band" you were "stupid to wait outside."

So no Jack Johnson. I'm sure he's upset he didn't get to meet me. Liz and I did get our Man on The Street done for the next issue, so it wasn't a wasted night. But Interpol tomorrow, so I can look forward to that.

ALSO, big news! The Upwelling will be opening for VHS or Beta at Bowery Ballroom next Tuesday night at 8 pm. Can't wait.