Tenacious D-ouche

How does a knife get past security?

Saturday night was a very special night. Not only because my dear old dad turned 70, (Happy Birthday, Pop) but also because the greatest band in the world, Tenacious D, was playing at The House of Blues. Tenacious D is probably the one and only band that my wife and I have equal adoration for.

We saw them a while back, at “The Joint,” in The Hard Rock Hotel, and that night is a good memory for us. It was so much fun, and we have been huge fans of “The D” ever since. Saturday night’s concert at The House of Blues, in Mandalay Bay, was highly anticipated by us both, to say the least.

When we got there, it wasn’t five minutes before my ultra-keen instincts started pickin up on some real bad mojo. It was instantaneous. My mood went from  totally jazzed, to completely aggro, just like that.

I can’t explain it, or why it happened, but it was a strong and overwhelming feeling. Typically, this type of environment has the exact opposite effect on me.

I tell my wife that it’s time to go. “Fuck this place.” I said. “I don’t wanna be here, we need to bail.” Daggers were her response.

I decided to quit belly-aching, and tough it out for my wife, but during the set of the opening act, “The Sights,” I was super uneasy, and on the verge of a panic attack. My inner voice was like, “Dude, OMG, we really need to get outta here, man. It’s really freaking me out, man. We need to bail, man. I’m trippin’ hard right now”

I kept it cool, though. For my wife.

However, about three songs into Tenacious D’s set, I just couldn’t take anymore.

“We’re leaving, now.” I tell my wife. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t even wait for her response, I just took her by the hand, and left. She was pissed. It was a very long and silent walk to the car.  She was starting in on a “You’re a pussy” diatribe as we were driving out of the parking garage, and I was beginning to agree with her.

Mostly because I felt totally fine as soon as we were out of that concert. Totally. I was completely back to “Let’s party” mode.

I wanted to suggest just doing something else instead, but that would have made matters even worse. My best plan is to just drive home, and happily accept the new asshole that will soon be torn out of me by my wife.

Then we saw all the commotion as we were driving out. There were emergency vehicles with lights flashing, EMT’s with stretchers, and all kinds of cops.  They had jammed up Luxor Drive to only one outbound lane. Something gnarly went down in Mandalay Bay.

The traffic jam added about twenty minutes to my new asshole surgery, but my wife had calmed down by the time we got home. I retreated to my man-cave, and I barely had a bowl loaded when I hear, “Frank, get down here, you’re not gonna believe this.”

Great. What now?  I was thinking she just wanted to rip into me some more, and was about to give me the third degree for something ridiculous that she cooked up just for the sake of griping at me.

What I got was the total opposite. She was smiling. She gave me a huge hug and started kissing me all over my face. She started apologizing and saying stuff like how she should have listened to me, and how I’m usually right-on with my instincts, and she was being a baby, and she’s sorry, and she loves me.

I was like, “I love you, too. Sorry for freaking out.”

She says, “Baby, you weren’t freaking out, you were protecting us.”

I only could respond with a puzzled look. She plants a kiss on my lips, and says,

“There was a stabbing at Tenacious D about five minutes after you got us out of there.”

“Get the fuck out!” I reply

She was like, “They locked down the parking garage. We would have been trapped there for three hours if you didn’t make us leave” as she plants more yummy kisses on my face.

Then she apologized for yelling at me, and I told her it was OK, and all was good.

I just want to know who the Tenacious Douche Bag was that brought a knife to a concert, and how the fuck the goddamn metal detector wands didn’t catch it.

I think my wife needs to give The House of Blues security guards new asshole surgery.
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