I’m not a reality tv watcher (please, just don’t even get me started), but I tried my best to live-broadcast mine and Brian’s date
last night two nights ago all over the internet. It was a spontaneous plan thrown together and it was so glorious I thought the whole world needed the play-by-play. Do you accept this rose beer?
It all started last weekend when I saw on twitter that Jerrod Niemann was having a cd release party a few towns over, and was bummed because I was scheduled to work that day (Wednesday). But on Monday a coworker asked to switch shifts and I’m all, “sure, I can help you out, no big, oh you don’t have to owe me one really it’s cool, you’re welcome… (YES I CAN GO TO THE CONCERT!)” and got way super excited about it. Brian plays softball on Wednesdays, but I figured if I couldn’t find anyone to go with me I’d just fly solo. I’m an independent woman, damnit! And I just really love country music and how cool “album release party” sounded, so, I was going. Plus I had some killer new boots just begging for a hillbilly debut.
Conveniently, Noble Ale Works was releasing one of their limited-edition IPAs that same day, AND it was forecasted to rain, so Bri bailed on softball and we filled our pre-concert itinerary with delicious local beer and food truck sushi. What? Not normal?
After procuring a few pints and bottles at Noble, we headed out towards the newish Bottlelogic Brewing which womp womp, isn’t open on Wednesdays. Like the rational and flexible person I’m trying to be, [warning, run-on sentence ahead] we emergency contingency planned without any Type A meltdowns and after a quick hop on the highway made it to The Bruery for a flight and the seedy as fuck liquor store next door that has easily the best craft bottle selection I’ve ever seen. [end run-on.] If you’re ever in Placentia and needs some motor oil, stale pork rinds, and some hard to find beers, hit up Mr. K’s Liquor.
After all that, we finally headed down to Santa Ana for what I envisioned was going to be a low-key, mic-and-stool, short set “bar concert.” We walked up to the HUGE Yost Theater about 30 minutes after doors opened, and kid you not there were 300 people in a line wrapped around the building. Young kids, middle-aged couples, department store boots, boots with actual shit on them, rhinestone flannel, flannel with marlboros in the chest pocket… It was like someone put the cast from Laguna Beach and the FFA chapter from my high school in a blender and spat them all out together on the sidewalk of downtown Santa Ana. Worlds collide!
I was feeling very out of sorts, like what is this weird Twilight Zone we’ve found ourselves in? but then it started sprinkling and the entire queue erupted in cries and complaints and running for cover under overhangs and I realized I was most definitely still in Southern California.
too shy to use the flash for my double-fisting selfie
and the $15 TJ Maxx clearance steal money shot
Once we got inside we proceeded directly to the bar to double-fist PBRs and headed upstairs to the balcony for a prime viewing spot away from the commotion. We posted up in a good spot and watched the jam-packed dance floor move in complete sync to complex line dances I never knew existed but suddenly desperately wanted to learn. Anybody want to take lessons with me? Could be fun (-ny)…
So like, 30 minutes before the concert a clipboard/headset lady came up and told us we had to leave our perfect perch because they were having a “VIP session” in that area. She told us to go all the way downstairs, but the people one level below us weren’t getting kicked out so we shimmied down a few steps and just stood there until we could swoop back up to our primo spot.
No shit two minutes later Brian yells over my shoulder, “what’s up, Jerrod!” and there goes Jerrod Niemann walking the steps right behind me. He did his little VIP meet-and-greet thing for a while, then headed back our way to go down to the stage. I put my hand on the glass partition between the two levels (fun no-cares drunk Sarah was in attendance) and he reciprocated with a high-five and a pat on the shoulder as he walked by. Bri tried to get a pic but the flash slowed the shutter down so much all he got was a blurry shot of the back of his security guard’s head. Underexposure beats no photo, folks. Turn those flashes off.
Don’t worry, I got my #proof elsewhere.
Twitter, why are you so good to me?
The rest of the night was awesome – he played for about 90 minutes, a mix of new album stuff, old hits, covers (Cash, Sublime, Marley, whaaa), and dueling fiddled their guitars for Devil Went Down to Georgia. Expectations – exceeded.
$30 for two tickets and a cd, $4 to park, and many $3 beers… yup, Date Night was a success, indeed. Thanks for the party, Jerrod.