emo sucks

 

So, today was just another one of those days, that is, pretty much just like all the others. Nothing exciting enough to mention about work. Oh, except the fact that I conned my assistant manager, whom is in charge of scheduling, into buying me and the whole evening staff Popeye's chicken for covering some measly 1 1/2 shift for another staff member. Yeah, am I good? I'm good.
Anyways, I had originally made plans tonight to attend a CD release party/show in which one of my friends from high school's band was playing at. Well, I wouldn't necessarily call him a friend...more like a friend-of-a-friend with whom I rode the bus with quite often and went to Homecoming with my Junior year.
The plan was that I would meet two of my better friends there around 8 and I would stay until around 9:15, I was then going to meet some work friends to see the movie Dodgeball.
So I call my friend Jay, whom I assumed was there, in order to find my way to the venue in which this whole shindig was going down. Of course, he gave me some bogus directions, so I had to take a shot in the dark guessing where it actually was. Luckily I found the place without too much trouble. Once I parked and found my way to the door, I called up my friends once more only to find out that they had left because the other bands that were playing 'sucked' and our friends band wasn't playing til 9:30 -- 15 minutes after I had planned on leaving. So I was a little disappointed, but I thought "Oh well, I can still go in and check it out. It really can't be all that bad."
Before I was going to venture in, I strolled over to the side of the building to call one of my work friends to let her know I wouldn't be needing a seat saved at the movie due to the fact that I had enough time now to get there before it started, and while I was in the middle of my conversation some Goober whom I recognized from high school walks up to me and asks me to move over to the front of the building because apparently 'people loitering on the side of the building disrupts the bands'. Like I was some groupie trying to 'get in' with these super cool bands that were going to play at this super crazy show. I just looked at him and said flatly, "Excuse me?".
So, he repeats himself in this 'oh-so-important' tone of voice, and I just replied "Didn't you go to Cleveland?", again very flatly and completely disregarding what he had said. He mumbles some form of 'yeah', taking the hint that I wasn't going to 'stop loitering' and that I wasn't too concerned about 'disrupting the bands' and walked off in a somewhat defeated manner.
Once I was off the phone, I walked back up to the door ready to go in, when it hit me that I really didn't know why I was still there. I turned around and just glanced over all the 'hardcore indie kids' that were chillin out on the sidewalk, smoking their cigarettes and talking about bands and whatever indie kids were supposed to talk about, and I just felt like such a tool. Not because I was blonde and was wearing A+F jeans (mind you I was wearing a Saddle Creek shirt), but because everyone around me looked exactly the same. The experience, in my eyes, could easily have been paralleled to walking into a Frat party and scanning the crowd for a friend. Except, of course, these kids, although as trendy if not moreso than the usual frat scene, were pretentious, chic assholes...as opposed to meatheaded, loud assholes.
I'm not trying to hate on anyone, I myself am extremely into that scene. I take my music very seriously, I would rather listen to a band no one knows about than something popular, and my confidence in the quality of music that I listen to results in my disapproving of anyone who 'sells out' (for lack of a better term) or who listens to 'emo' because they play it on the OC.
But give me a break. Everyone there had black or partially black hair, which or course was falling into their eyes. They were all sporting some vintage shirt or merch from some obscure band. All of their pants were too tight, or they had on a skirt with boots, and they all were wearing either some chucks or some weird pair of uncomfortable looking shoes. These kids had to have put WAY more thought into their image than any prepster I know. And that upset me. I actually felt embarrassed to be there. The whole indie rock scene can be such fagotry sometimes, and I'm not talking about the punkers who rock out to NFG or Thursday, I'm talking about the people who think they're SO above that and they're SO real. Newsflash: you're just as much of a dusch as him or me or the kid across the street. Get over yourself. Defining yourself to that extent just limits the amount of potential and openmindedness that is apparent of you by others. I guess people just can't realize sometimes their own triviality.
On a lighter note, Dodgeball was pretty good. It delivered what it promised and offered up some worth-repeating dialogue. Overall it was really just another Ben Stiller movie, but I have to say I do plan on owning a copy someday.
Nobody makes me bleed my own blood. Nobody.