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.)
I like this song by Le Pop, even though it doesn't sound too great here.