Hahaha, K did such a lovely job of summarizing that I don’t know what to add about the All-American Rejects experience. It was funny and disappointing. A., being an eleven year old girl on the first night of winter break was just enjoying being out in the city among all of the excited teenage girls. She also knew that most of her friends' moms would not have agreed to such a venture. So from that perspective, it was all good.
Nick was the nicest of the group, coming out first when the crowd was the largest, and hanging out taking tons of pics. Here’s one of him signing A’s pic so she can give it to her friend. After two hours A. said to me, “Only one more to go mom, just Tyson that diva”. Truer words have never been spoken.
I thought it was really shitty for Tyson not to come out since you could tell for many of the young gals possibly attending their first concert, he was the draw. They showed up in Butter shirts, Tyson’s clothing line. All I could think of as I watched him scarf down Imo’s pizza and ignoring the seventeen fans still waiting after two hours for his appearance, I thought to myself, that’s the STL revenge right there. When my friends T and J came to visit St. Louis and tried Imo’s St. Louis style pizza covered in processed provel cheese, about four hours later they said they felt like someone had poured cement into their stomach. Take that, Tyson!
The most amusing moment of that night occurred when we were driving home discussing something completely different, sitting at a stoplight while A. fell asleep in the backseat. K just happened to look up at the overpass above the stoplight we were sitting at and saw the All-American Rejects tour buses go past. She stopped whatever she was saying mid-sentence so a string of expletives about All-American Rejects could be released.
Move Along All-American Rejects, move the fuck along. –J
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