Así es Costa Rica (That's Costa Rica): O, (dude from) Canada!

So Saturday night I actually went out to the first concert I've been to since before son was born (the Festival Imperial). And it was great. Really, really great. Smashing Pumpkins totally rocked it. We got tickets from our friend M., who works for the Cerveceria, so we had the great fortune to sit in the Cerveceria's VIP lounge, up above it all and away from the throngs of people down in general admission (which is fine, you know, if you're into that -- been there, done that myself for too many years, personally speaking). Esposo and I met up with M.'s wife, D. and her friend V. during the third act or somewhere thereabouts (Cafe Tacvba? Babasonicos?). I would like to just mention that Le Pop was great, and you should check them out. This is the lead-singer-from-Ghandi's new band (the lead singer Luis who used to look like my husband before my husband cut all of his hair off). Also Cafe Tacvba. Great. Babasonicos not so much, though. I thought the lead singer was very dwarf-like, both in his voice and in his stature (and what was up with those Davy Jones-inspired pants? sheesh). Incubus was eh...okay, but I was really surprised that a lot of people left after their set, thus missing the headliners. Oh well, too bad for them.

Inside the Cerveceria lounge were tables, chairs, a bar and even beanbag chairs (how fun is that?). We managed to snag a table early on, and a couple of beanbag chairs later on. During Incubus, when everyone else was standing watching the band, I was sitting with D. on the beanbag chairs, and we see someone come up to our table and open a pack of smokes belonging to one in our party (whose name will go unmentioned), taking out several of said smokes and passing them around to his friends. At this point, someone in our party says something to the cigarette thief, and the guy starts saying, Well if you leave a pack of cigarettes lying on a table you can't expect people not to take them. In English. As though none of us spoke English. Then I say, It's okay, take one, whatever. And then he's surprised to have found another English speaker. And then he presumes me to be Canadian. And I'm like, No, I'm American. What about you? He says, Oh, Canadian! I'm not a fucking American! Don't confuse me with an American! I didn't get your country in this mess, and then some stuff about George Bush, blah blah blah. Well. At this point, D. speaks up.

D. reminds me of a Latina Lauren Bacall or one of those classic actresses in their heyday. She's tall, beautiful, smart, and just a very classy person. So when she says, What's this about fucking Americans? to the guy, I must admit I'm more than a little stunned. Happily so, though. I'm a fucking American, she says to him. And she's an American (pointing to me). And we're proud to be Americans. Don't think just because we're Americans we like George Bush or something! I mean, she is really mad. The guy gets the hint. The two girls he is with feel the need to tell us that one of them lives in Canada, but she's really Russian. The other one says she's a Brit. At some point he starts telling us that he found his bracelet on the ground (the bracelet that allows one admittance into the Cerveceria's private lounge), and he only paid $20 to get into the show, and here I am in the lounge and aren't I a smart one, blah blah blah. Honestly, I've rarely met someone more full of themselves. Finally, though, D. vibes him away, and they all leave.

At several points during the night, D. says to me things like, Can you believe that guy? Fucking Americans, indeed. What an asshole. I tried to explain that I thought he wasn't trying to insult us personally, it's just that Bush and his ilk have so ruined our reputation around the world that he felt the need to puff out his chest and claim moral superiority. I'm sure lots of people feel the same way he does, they just aren't so likely to say so to your face. Whatever. He didn't ruin our night, at any rate.

Here are some crappy audience-made videos from the show for those who didn't make it. "Enjoy!" (You've got to love YouTube; videos from the concert were posted by the time I got home at 3:00 a.m. that morning.)