Dear Drunk, Obnoxious Blonde in Front of Me at the Carbon Leaf Concert,

I came to see Carbon Leaf, not you. I appreciate that they are "like, your favoritest band!" but they are also one of my favorite bands, and have been for probably a lot longer than you. Your flailing dancing, overzealous caressing of your chest and constant blowing of kisses are not endearing, they are horribly annoying. Perhaps you didn't notice the rest of the band laughing at you? Barry is not your soul mate, he's a lead singer of a semi-popular band that sees slutty groupies like you all the time. Calm down and let me enjoy the show.

No love,
C.

Dear Possibly Drunk, Equally-Annoying Friend of Obnoxious Blonde,

The first couple times you asked me if I could see over you were polite. The fourth, fifth and twenty-seventh times were far more annoying than your potential view-blocking could possibly be. If you're than concerned that you're in my way, MOVE. And take your jailbait with you. You're lucky my roommate didn't punch you, because I assure you, she was very, very close to doing so.

You suck,
C.

Dear Not-Drunk Unfortunate Companion of Obnoxious People,

I appreciate your attempts to keep your rude and tasteless friends in check. Next time, could you teach them a little show etiquette before bringing them in public?

Thanks,
C.

Obnoxious people notwithstanding, it was a fun show (though I do enjoy their older stuff a lot more), and I got to meet the band. All of them (except lead singer Barry, who, while hot, is a little full of himself) were really gracious and were excited that I've been a fan since the days they played the old Roanoke College gym. Plus I got a sweet t-shirt and some cheap CDs.

Live music rocks my world.