I can tell you the exact moment I knew I was old. Not just, oh, my knees creak when I get up old, but Wow. Teenagers think I’m an idiot old. It was Friday, September 16th, at the Kid Cudi concert at the Trib Total Media Amphitheatre.
My 15 year old son was jealous we were going. My 16 year old babysitter was jealous we were going. The signs were all there.
We pulled into the parking garage at Station Square, and like any other 36 year old adult people, fired back some rum drinks. Do you see why we were delusional enough to think we weren’t too old for this? We still tailgate for hip-hop concerts. Why didn’t anyone try to stop us? Where were our friends?
I knew something was up when me and my main squeeze, Casey, were walking through the parking lot and had to dodge drunken 19 year olds. We made our way to the entrance, and even the ticket taker sort of raised an eyebrow. We were starting to stand out. Not because we were dressed differently, but because we were the only people in attendance who had already started paying off student loans.
His opener, the mysteriously named
Chip the Rapper Chip tha Ripper, was already on stage as we made our way to the bar (super extra double bonus points to the Amphitheatre. This venue has a fully stocked bar). He was awful. I’m not saying this because I’m old, I’m saying this because he was genuinely awful.
I can say this with confidence because I struck up a conversation with the 19 year old standing next to me, Tory, and she assured me that this guy was indeed, terrible, and was just Cudi’s friend from back in Cleveland, and Cudi felt bad for him, so he let him spit rhymes at a few tour dates. And also? Tory was a rapper herself. She had an app on her iPhone, and sometimes when she was driving she also spit rhymes, and did I want to hear it?
You bet I did. Thanks, Tory. You were thisclose to being better than Chip the Rapper.
It was getting chilly, and I was prepared for this with a jacket and scarf. I was the only female in attendance with either. It appeared the rest of them prepared for the cold with micro mini denim skirts, strappy tank tops, Uggs, hoop earrings, lip gloss, glitter, and underage drinking.
The upside, by the way, to being the only two people there old enough to drink legally – no lines at the bar. Casey and I made very good friends with Danielle the bartender. At 25, she was the third oldest person there.
A little side note here, Casey is the real Kid Cudi fan. I know all of two songs, and I kept meaning to listen to more so I could get more into the concert, but I’ll be damned if life just didn’t swoop in and put that plan out of commish. So, I just concentrated on drinking, instead.
After seven rum and diets, Cudi sounded pretty good! I actually really do enjoy his music. It’s lyrical, it’s got a great beat, and on the rare occasion that I understand a lyric, they seem to make sense. I was really starting to enjoy myself. And he kept the audience involved, you know what I mean? By asking that very question after every sentence, you know what I mean? We are going to get down tonight, you know what I mean?
It was bad enough I was the only person there who had to use a lotion specifically made to reduce fine lines and wrinkles, I did NOT want to get caught with my attention wandering.
The final straw of the night, the moment that I had to give up my cool card for all times, came towards the end. I was sick of getting bumped. These drunken teenagers had been ramming into me all night, and quite frankly, I was over it. They were getting their glitter all over me, and I had enough. I turn to the gaggle of them behind me and asked them in my best grown up voice if they could please, please watch where they were dancing.
The leader of their group, a 20 year old brunette about my height, but with much less clothing on, glared at me and said, “Lady. Relax. It’s just a concert.”
Dear god. I’m Lady. That is EVEN WORSE THAN MA’AM ON THE OLD SCALE. I was just schooled by a probably drunk teenager. I’m on THEIR turf. I don’t belong here. I need to go. We needed to leave before all of the other teenagers realized that their natural enemy, The Adult, was in their midst, and they rose up against us like something out of Lord of the Flies.
So we left. Cudi was wrapping up his show, thanking everyone for coming out, as we snuck out. I immediately wanted to run home and roll around in all my middle class glory, to reaffirm that while I may not be ‘cool’ anymore, I have a great living room set. I have a gorgeous family. I have a fantastic career. I like myself. I love my life.
So, yeah, I guess I liked that concert after all. Kid Cudi. Good times, you know what I mean?