No San Francisco Story this week. Instead, here's a San Jose Story for your enjoyment.
I bought the tickets the day they went on sale. I waited months for this day to come. Last night, my dream of seeing all the American Idols live booing Taylor the second he stepped on stage finally came true.
Come on along with me and my partners-in-crime Bad Kitty and Radzilla as we embark on our adventure, won't you?
I picked up Bad Kitty after work in downtown San Francisco where she was waiting with caffeinated drinks because we're old and tired at the end of the day. An hour later we arrived at HP Pavilion in San Ho.
First things first.
Mmmmmm. Sweet, sweet vodka. Nectar of the gods.
As we looked around the crowd, we noticed right off the bat that we were not the target audience. Not by about 30 years. On either side of 30 years. Color us the top of the bell curve.
Mandisa opened the show. (We could hear her from the bar.) But then...
Oh yes.
It was all about...Ace.
There. See him there? Hey, baby. I've never seen a white dude sporting a middle-parted Jheri-curl before, but's it's okay. I still love you. No, really. Shhh. There, there. We all make mistakes, honey. Just talk to me before you do anything else with your hair, okay?
Yeah, I know. I don't want to hear it so don't even start. When I'm watching an overly-commercialized, heavily edited, wrapped-up-and-packaged-like-a-Christmas-present reality show extravaganza I want to see a pretty face and big guns. End of story.
Ace singing Father Figure + Stefania on a couple four vodka sodas = pure, unadulterated bliss. (Video to come as soon as it finishes uploading.)
Then some other people came on. Like Bucky. 
Remember him and his scaggly facial hair? He doesn't look any better in person. He didn't "sang" any better either. In fact, during his set?
Then some more people like Paris came on but that's when we were in the bathroom with Lisa's mom (who was wearing fabulous open-toed, turquoise patent leather stilletos.)
After the bathroom break/bar run it was time for Chris and Elliott who both looked like they'd rather be elsewhere. Sorry, dudes, you've sold your soul to the devil for a good long time.
Kath-a-rine came out and did her "pretty lady singing." Damn, though, she is beautiful in person. Stunning. She definitely has charisma that extends far beyond the tv screen or stage. You know, like Ace. Except, her hair? Excellent. The extensions? Luscious.
Who do you think was up next? That's right. That harmonica-playing retahd.
Let's the the pictures tell the rest of the story.
The saving grace? Taylor was awful (or as Simon would say, "Oh-ful"). He came on stage by walking through the audience surrounded by security personnel to protect him from all the people who (as Bad Kitty pointed out) weren't trying to mob him.
Then he sang those shitty songs of his including that Michael Macdonald one, and—thankfully—was off stage within minutes.
Then it was time for the finale.
As we got up to leave, a woman sitting behind us turned to me and said, "You outta be ashamed of yourself booing Taylor like that. That was nasty."
I looked her ass straight in the eye and said, "He outta be ashamed of himself. HE FUCKING SUCKS! He's terrible!" (Mighta been the vodka talkin'.)
She then sought out Bad Kitty and Radzilla to tell the same thing adding that "if we didn't like him, we shoulda voted." God, they really do gulp down the Kool-Aid, don't they?
Despite that beeyotch trying to be a total buzz-kill, we had a super-fun night. I don't think I need to see another "live on tour" reality show concert anytime soon, though. It was so squeaky clean it felt kinda dirty being the drunkest people there. That's counter-intuitive to concert-going-culture isn't it? (That and the holding up the cell phones instead of lighters during the slow songs...WTF?)
I'm just not sure I'm comfortable with that.
