Hey 19

The weekend is over and I'm plumb tuckered out. I spent most of Saturday with my girlfriend Mary first volunteering in the food tent at the 10 Ugly Men festival to raise money for local charities and later hanging in the VIP tent at a Steely Dan concert.

At 10 Ugly Men, we encountered the Pizza Nazi: a woman who, I'm guessing, was the volunteer coordinator and barked at everyone from volunteers to paying customers. Screaming at people who were cutting the line, "You may think you're cute but I'm not serving you without a plate." Really? Do you have to be that nasty?

We had a line a mile long for people waiting for food. We also had a line of volunteers at the end waiting to serve. The bottleneck was the center where the mac and potato salads were being doled out. Those of us at the end, in an attempt to alleviate the wait, were taking orders from people earlier in the line. "You cannot serve people meat this early. They have to pass the salads." Stoopid.

One woman said to us in a feigned whimper, "If she yells at me one more time, I'm leaving. I've been here since 7:30 this morning and I'm a volunteer for chrissake."

Another volunteer taught me how to make sure the condiments and napkin holders were always full as if it were the most challenging and critical job on the planet. Oh, the pressure . . .

So we moved from flipping burgers on a sunny day with temps over 100 degrees to sipping wine and eating prime rib on a very comfortable night under the stars. My favorite part of hobnobbing with the local elite was discovering how everyone shakes hands while reading your name tag. Hello! My eyes are up here! (I'm guessing, since I was a guest of a VIP, they were trying to figure out if I was somebody noteworthy. Nope.)

Steely Dan? Never a big fan and last night was no exception. They were lifeless much akin to the giant mechanical rat that plays on the stage at Chuck E. Cheese. Before the show, Mary warned me, "I'm only staying for four songs." Okay by me. The first song was so boring, I said to no one in particular, "Oh this is my favorite" to which the dude next to me started laughing.

At the end of the fourth song, I texted Mary in the seat next to me just to give myself something to do. "Let me know when you want to leave." She responded, "Now!" so we bolted. We felt like ingrates but we did have fun before the band started. Does that count?

Friendship: Having heaps o' fun with someone regardless of one's circumstances. Sweating to death, yet laughing, while serving drunken masses? Check. Dancing in our seats while listening to crappy jazzy jazz hits? Check.

Make tonight a wonderful thing.