On Tuesday, Chris had mentioned that he was thinking about going to Atlanta to see William Fitzsimmons on Friday. Since there have been quite a few times where a fantastic idea has been hatched, but not actually followed through with, I was excited, but not necessarily expecting it to happen (because, hey...other things come up and life happens, right??).
I got an email on Wednesday that said the tickets had been bought. Although I was super stoked about the whole prospect of seeing a singer that I love and hadn't been able to catch yet, I was nervous about something I had going on Friday morning so I couldn't really focus on the excitement of Friday night until around Friday at 12:30.
By Friday at 1, I was on my way to Chris' to meet him for the 4 hour drive down to Atlanta. We made it to the venue at 6, had dinner, and went upstairs a little bit before William made it to the stage (it was an early show in the smallest venue I'd ever been to). Not only was the show in a very small venue, it also was filled with about 100 people sitting on the floor like it was a school assembly.
William ended up being a pretty funny dude (at one point making a joke about suicide and then pointing out that he can do that since he's technically a psychotherapist; definitely my kinda guy) and put on a great show (I decided it was the third best show I've ever been to). Near the end of the show, he decided to come out to the middle of the crowd (about 10 feet away from us) to sing "Good Morning".
By 8:30, the show was over and we were on our way back to Charlotte. The way back home was a little slower than the way there thanks to two different traffic accidents and a stop by McDonald's for some late night grub. I'm proud to say that we made it home a little after 1am without Chris having a aneurysm as a result of the other drivers (although, if I had a blood pressure cuff, I'm pretty sure I would've been able to confirm that his blood pressure sky-rocketed at one point during the drive).
Nothing makes me feel more like my mother's daughter than driving 4 hours to see a show and then driving home immediately after.
1 comment:
"Nothing makes me feel more like my mother's daughter than driving 4 hours to see a show and then driving home immediately after."
I'm so proud. (And McDonald's french fries taste exponentially better after a great show, don't you think?)
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