What can I say? I went to see Paul McCartney in concert last night with my good friends Mala & Joe, and had a fan-freakin-tastic time. As a lifelong Beatles fan, I don't think I'm being biased when I say that this was one of the best shows I've ever seen. Paul McCartney is in his 60s but still ROCKS it and has the stamina (and the ass) of a much-younger man. He performed for over 3 hours with NO breaks. Shit, I'm in my 30s and was sitting on my butt drinking beer, yet I needed breaks.
Of course, I took pictures. I mean, hey... that's how we dooooo.
The car ride down, in which Mala and I sat in the back and made Joe chauffer us like we were in a limo. Mala even made him lick her ankle at one point, just because she could.
This photo is dedicated to my male readers. You're welcome.
Once there, we had a little fiasco in which we stood on the street waiting to get into the private club we'd been invited to (some rubbish about fire codes) and listened as MGMT started to play somewhere deeeeep inside Fenway. Mala tells it better, so jog on over there and read it when you get a mo'. When we finally got inside and endured a 12-minute jam-packed ride in a freight elevator, we bought some horribly over-priced food and drink and found our seats.
Seriously, $8.50 for a crappy cup of crappy domestic beer??! Fuck me. Oh, and Mala dropped her weiner and swore me to secrecy when she picked it up and dusted off the grime of 10,000 shoes, then ate it anyway. She proclaimed it, "Delicious, but slightly gritty." I can tell you about it only because after we laughed about the incident for the rest of the night, she agreed that it was too hilarious to keep to ourselves. Such a selfless act of comedy! That is why we're friends.
Here we are post-floordog, pre-McCartney:
Delicious $8 beeeeeeeer:
Yeah, it was hot & muggy and I was sweating balls. So glad I took the time to actually put on make up, because by this point I had sweated and cried it off from laughing so hard! Whatev. We're still at Fenway Park about to watch a living legend perform, so I can set my vanity aside, for cryin' out glaven.
Here are some shots from the show. As the night went on, we found time for beer runs when he did his new stuff (what?), and by the time he started throwing out killah Beatles tunes we were rocking out with our, um, cocks? out?
This is Dave. Dave is a mutual fund wholesaler, which means he pimps out funds to financial advisors like Joe. In return for placing their clients' trust and money into said funds, Dave gets paid to take those advisors out to events in and around Boston. Nice gig, Dave.
Dave is having some marital problems. Dave told us all about them any chance he got, all night long. I only got cornered twice, when I went with him to help him carry the beer back to our seats. Joe got cornered A LOT, and found out a lot of stuff about Dave. Poor Dave.
Joe was in rare form! Sporting an easy-to-spot Charlie Brown-inspired polo shirt, Joe proceeded to get his freak on.
Behold: BEST. PICTURE. EVER:
WOOOT! What can I say? Triple encore, fireworks during Live & Let Die, and ending with Sgt. Pepper's? Yeah, we were pumped!
After the show, we went to the Cask & Flagon so Joe could
D'oh!
It was a spectacular show, and a wonderful night out with my friends. Truly a once-in-a-lifetime event, and I'm so grateful that they included me! If you get a chance to see Sir Paul, please GO!
