Fake it if You Don't Belong: 2008 Chili Cook Off
5 Comments Published by Carrie M on Tuesday, May 13, 2008 at 2:42 AM.
Alternate titles for this post: My Last Chili Cookoff and Things I'm Too Old For.
Several weeks ago, I listened to Elliott, of Elliott in the Morning, rattle off the bands for DC101's Chili Cookoff. When he was finished, I was mildly impressed. They were decent bands: Chevelle, Finger 11, Seether, Live, and Stain'd. And one of them was one of my favorites who I hadn't seen in a few years (Live). I get to work that day and my trusty friend and colleague J, who also listens to DC101, had the same thought as I did. She wanted to go. I looked at her skeptically.
I said I was too old to do festival shows anymore. When Arjewtino asked me if I was going to Shamrock earlier this year, that's exactly what I said to him along with the fact I knew one or two of the million bands playing. Also a sign that I'd gotten too old for it. But J was persistent and I agreed, because I thought it could be fun. Surely I wasn't so old, was I?
We were monitoring the weather and as late as Thursday when the forecast was for sunny skies and 70s. Friday arrives. Rain. Shit. I told her that if it was raining, I may be rethinking it. I shared this with my roommate who insisted I "just go and have FUN!" I narrowed my eyes at her and said I was well past the age to stand in the rain to listen to music and enjoy myself. I shared this with Elle and she said she didn't think she was ever that age that she would enjoy standing in the rain. I'm feeling better about my rain proclaimation.
Thankfully, the weather held. Even if it hadn't, that wouldn't have been the worst part of the
day. J and I took the metro and exited at Metro Center at about 12:45 pm. Chevelle was due to come onstage at 1:25, I think we're good to go. How wrong I was.
The Chili Cookoff is held in the block that used to house the old DC Convention Center, the block bounded by H Street, 9th and 11th Streets, and New York Ave. Pretty decent sized block, right? These bozos had ONE entrance on New York Ave. The line wrapped literally around the entire block. By the time we got to the other side of the block on New York Avenue, a second line had formed. We stood. We listened to Chevelle start at 1:25. Chevelle finished their set, and we were still in line (exhibit A, to the left). By the time we got to the clusterfuck entrance (exhibit B, next photo), some event person decides to tell us they opened up a new entrance over by the Renaissance about an HOUR AGO and there was no wait
. A quick look behind us, and sure enough, no line after about 20 people (at least 10 people wide though). Fan-fucking-tastic. A million genius points to you, show organizers.
J and I finally get in after being: 1, carded, 2, "searched" where the lady barely looked in my bag. I could have had a grenade or a small dog in there and she would have had no idea, 3, literally flashed our ticket. We're in! This is barely half the battle. Finger 11 has now started playing. Come to find out the geniuses organizing the event have it arranged so you must buy TICKETS to get beer. A buck a ticket. Guess how long that line is? I sent J to get in the beer line, and I got a little creative getting in "line" for the tickets. I was surrounded by "men" having important and existential conversations that went like, "Beers are $7? I need to get 10 beers, how much is that...." "Dude, I need like a HUNDRED." "A hundred tickets or a hundred bucks?"
I get past these tools and ask for my 50 tickets (J and I combined, thanksverymuch). You'd think these folks would be pulling tickets neat-like off a little ream like we see at the fair. Nope. They're sipping a beer with one hand and then with the other, digging into a big rubbermaid like buckets and pulling out fistfuls of tickets and COUNTING THEM MANUALLY. However, I managed to be sent on my way with 8 extra tickets. Onto J in the beer line.
That line was moving, at least. We had to whip out our IDs again and flash them, neither of us thinking for a minute the "security guard" could tell us how old we were after looking at our IDs. We get to the beer soaked tables, asking for two Bud Lights each (when in low-class Rome...). We handed over our tickets, that totally weren't counted and went on our merry way. We sat and I whipped out a much needed cigarette, drank our first beers in record time. This would be a good time to whip out some Finger 11 lyrics to sum up our time so far:
Lather. Rinse. ZIP IT!
But overall? It was just a huge, giant, stupid, clusterfuck. I never stood in a line for ANYthing less than 20 people. On Monday morning, Elliott acknowledged the lines were an issue and that it was being "addressed", but it didn't make me feel better. I considered leaving a few times on Saturday, but I couldn't abandon my ticket price (and $10 in ticket fees to TicketBastard.com) or J. I thought about trying to get my money back from DC101, but there's just no way in hell that will ever happen. While I'll write angry letters to places of business, I'm not so old that I'll try to get my money back from DC101 because that is a true exercise in futility and they won't miss me at subsequent cookoffs. I even thought about not listening to Elliott in the Morning anymore, but they're firmly a part of my wake up routine, sadly.
Several weeks ago, I listened to Elliott, of Elliott in the Morning, rattle off the bands for DC101's Chili Cookoff. When he was finished, I was mildly impressed. They were decent bands: Chevelle, Finger 11, Seether, Live, and Stain'd. And one of them was one of my favorites who I hadn't seen in a few years (Live). I get to work that day and my trusty friend and colleague J, who also listens to DC101, had the same thought as I did. She wanted to go. I looked at her skeptically.
I said I was too old to do festival shows anymore. When Arjewtino asked me if I was going to Shamrock earlier this year, that's exactly what I said to him along with the fact I knew one or two of the million bands playing. Also a sign that I'd gotten too old for it. But J was persistent and I agreed, because I thought it could be fun. Surely I wasn't so old, was I?
We were monitoring the weather and as late as Thursday when the forecast was for sunny skies and 70s. Friday arrives. Rain. Shit. I told her that if it was raining, I may be rethinking it. I shared this with my roommate who insisted I "just go and have FUN!" I narrowed my eyes at her and said I was well past the age to stand in the rain to listen to music and enjoy myself. I shared this with Elle and she said she didn't think she was ever that age that she would enjoy standing in the rain. I'm feeling better about my rain proclaimation.
Thankfully, the weather held. Even if it hadn't, that wouldn't have been the worst part of the
day. J and I took the metro and exited at Metro Center at about 12:45 pm. Chevelle was due to come onstage at 1:25, I think we're good to go. How wrong I was.The Chili Cookoff is held in the block that used to house the old DC Convention Center, the block bounded by H Street, 9th and 11th Streets, and New York Ave. Pretty decent sized block, right? These bozos had ONE entrance on New York Ave. The line wrapped literally around the entire block. By the time we got to the other side of the block on New York Avenue, a second line had formed. We stood. We listened to Chevelle start at 1:25. Chevelle finished their set, and we were still in line (exhibit A, to the left). By the time we got to the clusterfuck entrance (exhibit B, next photo), some event person decides to tell us they opened up a new entrance over by the Renaissance about an HOUR AGO and there was no wait
. A quick look behind us, and sure enough, no line after about 20 people (at least 10 people wide though). Fan-fucking-tastic. A million genius points to you, show organizers.J and I finally get in after being: 1, carded, 2, "searched" where the lady barely looked in my bag. I could have had a grenade or a small dog in there and she would have had no idea, 3, literally flashed our ticket. We're in! This is barely half the battle. Finger 11 has now started playing. Come to find out the geniuses organizing the event have it arranged so you must buy TICKETS to get beer. A buck a ticket. Guess how long that line is? I sent J to get in the beer line, and I got a little creative getting in "line" for the tickets. I was surrounded by "men" having important and existential conversations that went like, "Beers are $7? I need to get 10 beers, how much is that...." "Dude, I need like a HUNDRED." "A hundred tickets or a hundred bucks?"
I get past these tools and ask for my 50 tickets (J and I combined, thanksverymuch). You'd think these folks would be pulling tickets neat-like off a little ream like we see at the fair. Nope. They're sipping a beer with one hand and then with the other, digging into a big rubbermaid like buckets and pulling out fistfuls of tickets and COUNTING THEM MANUALLY. However, I managed to be sent on my way with 8 extra tickets. Onto J in the beer line.
That line was moving, at least. We had to whip out our IDs again and flash them, neither of us thinking for a minute the "security guard" could tell us how old we were after looking at our IDs. We get to the beer soaked tables, asking for two Bud Lights each (when in low-class Rome...). We handed over our tickets, that totally weren't counted and went on our merry way. We sat and I whipped out a much needed cigarette, drank our first beers in record time. This would be a good time to whip out some Finger 11 lyrics to sum up our time so far:
I hold on so nervously
To me and my drink
I wish it was cooling me
But so far, has not been good
It’s been shitty
And I feel
awkward, as I should
Why nervously? Would you trust your beer around that many idiots? Why would I feel awkward, you ask? Exhibit A. You may not be able to tell from my crappy cameraphone, but those girls are wearing HOMEMADE Chili Cookoff genuine hoochie shirts. One was tie dyed. All were cut up and had beads on them. I saw more men with their shirts off who should never TAKE their shirts off than I cared to. I saw 80s haircuts. I heard very bad accents.
Pop quiz - at what age does it stop being appropriate to wear short shorts/hot pants?
That's a trick question as THERE IS NEVER AN APPROPRIATE AGE FOR THAT.I also wonder what makes some girls think flip flops are good to wear to a festival of 15,00
0+ people. In a parking lot. With port-a-johns. And general drunken craziness. I saw some of those same girls with all kinds of nasty up and down their bare legs and feet when emerging from the port-a-johns (provided they didn't get in a fight with someone over getting INTO said port-a-john). That's thinking ahead, ladies. Enjoy your ebola virus.
- Barcelona is the best. I met a girl from Moscow there who invited me to go to Moscow and it was the best.
- I'm dating a girl from the Czech Republic, she looooves Hispanic guys.
- I haven't dated a Spanish girl in 10 years, I like Europeans.
- I took my dad to Munich and it was the best time ever.
- I've been to London, Amsterdam, Milan, {insert European city here}
.
Lather. Rinse. ZIP IT!
But overall? It was just a huge, giant, stupid, clusterfuck. I never stood in a line for ANYthing less than 20 people. On Monday morning, Elliott acknowledged the lines were an issue and that it was being "addressed", but it didn't make me feel better. I considered leaving a few times on Saturday, but I couldn't abandon my ticket price (and $10 in ticket fees to TicketBastard.com) or J. I thought about trying to get my money back from DC101, but there's just no way in hell that will ever happen. While I'll write angry letters to places of business, I'm not so old that I'll try to get my money back from DC101 because that is a true exercise in futility and they won't miss me at subsequent cookoffs. I even thought about not listening to Elliott in the Morning anymore, but they're firmly a part of my wake up routine, sadly.
All of it just reinforced that I am now too old and far, far too bitchy for stuff like that anymore.
RIP, Chili Cookoff. RIP the young me who can hang at festivals! Time to go catch the early bird special. Hey, is that a baked potato?
I didn't know educated people went to the Chili Cook-Off unless they worked there! ;)
I hear you about festivals... Hell i barely can go to shows now...
I am going to Pearl Jam next month with clients, but we got the box....
You are soo brave. I thought about going myself, but I just honestly can't deal w/that kind of a crowd anymore. ESp if all they are serving is beer. I know, I know...sad but true.
Of course, if Metallica were headlining, I could probably be persuaded...;-)
I used to listen to Elliott in the Morning all the time when I lived in Maryland. I never went to the Chili Cookoff but I always wanted to. That sucks about the lines.
ha ha ha. yep. i so hear you. I was born too old for these things. LOVED your wing woman post btw. I just blogrolled ya. :)
mardi gras
bars that charge a cover but don't have a band
beach week
biker week
outdoor festivals organized by morons
things that were all too old to do for $500?