Scissor

Jen and I (along with our friends Beth and Julie) went to see the beloved glam-rock dance band Scissor Sisters at the hated Showbox Sodo last night. It was a great time and I’ve hardly danced as much nor had as swell a time at a concert since see the Talking Heads live at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood, CA, in it must have been about 1983 or so.

The signature event of the evening was all about scissoring: right before the band went on, I thought I would be a hero by heading to the crowded bar to bring the girls (and me) some drinks. But the line was ridiculously long and slow, so by the time I had the beers in hand, the show had started, and a seething mass of humanity was crushed up against the stage, completely blocking any egress to my peeps; I was (scissor metaphor here) completely cut off.

For a while, I wandered about, sipping my beer, trying to catch a glimpse of Jen et al.; amidst the forest of tall bodies, though, I couldn’t see them anywhere. At some point, after three or four songs of this, I pretty much despaired of ever hooking up with my party again; I had visions of spending the entire concert, holding two beers, sort of enjoying the music, but mostly cursing myself for having gotten separated.

But finally, after having chased down at least two or three other groups of females who momentarily resembled those I was looking for, Jen and Beth emerged from the throng. Immediately, I was upon them, never letting them out of sight for the remainder of the show, which—from that point on—was incredible, sweaty, and a real source of what the band’s female singer called “man broth” stewing up in the crowd.

Scissor Sisters played all their hits, including the Pink Floyd Cover, “Comfortably Numb.” That’s sort of how I felt this morning; totally worth it!